When You Give a Gryffindor a Slytherin
by wowbadideas
Summary: It's common knowledge what happened to the Golden Trio after the Battle of Hogwarts, but what happened to all the other students they left behind? Three years after the traumatic night, Gryffindor Velma Caplan is still coming to terms with all the events. When Velma finds herself falling for a Slytherin, Ames, she finally begins to really heal. ((OCs) TRY IT OUT YOU WON'T REGRET)
1. The Battle of Hogwarts

**Chapter One** **–** **The Battle of Hogwarts**

I know as a fourth year student, it isn't my place to stay and fight the Battle of Hogwarts.

I also know as a Gryffindor, it completely is.

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's threat echoes in my head. "Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded. You have until midnight.

"Midnight…

"Midnight."

My eyes shoot over to Harry Potter. Skinnier, dirtier, angrier than I remember him. His friends, Ron and Hermione, stand protectively around him. I remember them all clearly from earlier years. Ron, one of my favorite Prefects who would let Kane and me into the common room when we forgot the password for the Fat Lady. Hermione, who stopped to help me correct out the swish of my wand. Harry. What could I say of Harry?

Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived. The legend himself is back. Watching him and hearing the stories about him used to make my head spin when I was younger. The killing curse, that stone, the basilisk, the werewolf. He and his friends seemed so invincible and incredible, but three years ago, seeing Cedric Diggory's dead body appear suddenly like that, changed my entire view of him and the school.

Things had been so different my first year. The school was shinny and wondrous and, well, magical. It _clearly_ beat any math class any muggle could've possibly offered me, but can I say the same of it now? Ever since my second year, I've been scared to walk the halls. I've been scared of teachers and classes and punishments.

Dad must be worried sick this year. He has been ever since I came home with Umbridge's writing scar on my hand. Marissa and I had tried our best to hide any papers from him, but he was still hesitant to send Leigh to school with us. We haven't been sent Choo-Choo, the family owl, back to him all year. He must be worried.

Professor McGonagall calls for all non-seventh years to be moved to safety. The crowd around me starts moving, and I search the crowd for Winona and Kane. I quickly find Winona's dark brown eyes looking back at me. She glares at me, disapprovingly. She must know what I'm going to do. I frown back at her and maneuver my way through the crowd, so she won't be able to find me. I see Kane in the crowd as well, but I can't get his attention.

If I have to do this alone, then so be it.

As the crowd of people I'm with turns a corner, I slip into a corridor, letting the people around me pass. I wait a few seconds and burst out of the corridor and towards the main hall. I slip my hand into my robe and pull out my wand and start running the list of spells in my head. I sprint down the hall and turn a corner when I nearly crash into my older sister.

"What are you doing?!" Marissa asks me furiously.

"Me?" I shout back. "What are you doing? Why aren't you in the Great Hall?"

"I'm not staying to fight," Marissa huffs, looking down at me. "Is that what you're doing? Going to the battle? You're not a seventh year, you need to get to safety!"

"I want to help!" I say, probably sounding immature.

"Velma!" Marissa hisses. "It's not safe! You could die!"

"You can't stop me," I say as I try to move past Marissa. "I can't let the others die while I, what? Go hide?! Mom would've wanted us to stand up for our school."

"Vel…" Marissa sighs. She hates it when I play the 'mom' card. "If I go to the battle, will you promise to get to safety?"

I raise an eyebrow at her. "You're going to the battle?"

"I am as long as you're not," she responds. I stare at her skeptically for a moment, but then she holds out her pinky finger. "I promise."

I wrap my pinky finger around hers and smile softly. "Deal."

Marissa slaps me on the back of my head as she runs back towards the Great Hall. I watch her jog back for a moment before turning around and heading to safety. I sprint to where the younger students are hiding with Madame Pomfrey. The moment I get in, Winona wraps me up in a big hug.

"Thank God you came back!" she shouts at me. She suddenly lets me go and holds me at arm's length. "It was one thing to go out to the battle; it was another thing to take Leigh with you!"

Every muscle in my body tenses. I pull myself away from Winona. "What do you mean take Leigh with me?"

Her arched eyebrows shoot up. "I thought you took Leigh to the battle with you…"

"Is he out there?!" I shriek.

"I don't know!"

My head tells me to stay put. To remember my promise to Marissa.

My heart tells me to go out and find my brother.

I turn around, and Winona's hand slips off of my arm. I feel her try to grab at my sleeve, but I pull my arm out of her grasp. I hear her shouting after me.

"Velma! Vel, it's not safe!" Winona's voice calls to me as it fades into the crowd.

The fight has just begun by the time I get into the corridors. I rack my brain, trying to think where Leigh would go. Leigh would protect what he cares about. The common rooms. Leigh is so fundamentally Gryffindor. He'd protect what he considered home. I turn the corner and sprint as fast as I can to the staircases. The portraits around me are empty. All the people in the paintings who'd once laugh and talk with me as I'd walk from classes are gone. I hear shouting from different parts of the castle, echoing in the hall. It takes every ounce of nerve I have to keep running up those stairs.

I get to the seventh floor and see my first year brother standing by the Fat Lady's portrait holding his wand out in front of him.

"Leigh!" I cry out as I run over to him. He's shaking visibly, yet he's holding his ground. If there is anyone so meant for Gryffindor, it is my brother.

Leigh lowers his guard and lets me hug him. "I saw all the paintings leaving…" he says to me in a shaking voice. "I-I figured the Fat Lady would leave too, so I-I couldn't just let the common room-"

"That was really smart of you, Leigh," I say, sincerely proudly, as I stand up. "But you need to get to safety."

"I want to stay," he says back to me. I close my eyes and sigh, realizing how I must've sounded to Marissa. Leigh clenches his jaw and stares up at me.

"Marissa is out fighting, okay?" I say as I start heading down the stairs, tugging Leigh by his sleeve behind me. "She's fighting for our whole family. I made a promise to her that we'd stay safe, okay?" Despite Leigh's initial (and expected) stubbornness, he allows himself to be pulled.

We run down the stairs when I suddenly hear a female voice shout, " _Glisseo_!"

The stairs disappear from under us and we crash down onto the bottom of the staircase. I land on my shoulder, which is better than Leigh, who lands on his cheek. I pull out my wand and am about to offer a healing spell, when the voice begins to cry out, " _Confringo_!"

I point at my brother, and before the fire can reach him, I scream, " _Protego_!" I quickly turn to the Death Eater and shout, " _Expelliarmus_!"

My shield charm isn't as powerful as I'd like it to be, but it's enough. A few of Leigh's hairs might be singed, but he'll be fine. Once the fire clears, Leigh runs up to me, and I hold him by his shoulders. "Find the DA," I tell him. "They're getting everyone out to Hogsmeade, okay? I'll make sure they don't follow you."

Leigh tries to say something back to me, but I push him down the hall before he wastes anymore time. I spin around, wand out, ready to fight the Death Eater. " _Levicorpus_!" I cry out, remembering the spell I had heard in the DA. The Death Eater is suspended in the air, hanging upside-down.

Before I can say anything else the Death Eater screams, "SON!"

A dark flash of smoke flies by, depositing someone I know. Skinny with tousled blonde hair. Bright, sad blue eyes. Tall, even with a slouch. Slytherin robes.

Ames.

Before I have a second to let out my gasp, Ames turns to this Death Eater – his mother – and says, " _Finite_." No shouting, no fuss. Just the way he is.

The Death Eater drops to the ground, landing on her feet. She turns to Ames, "Finish this one off, Ames. I'm sure you can handle it."

"Course, Mom," he responds casually.

She apparates away in a flash of dark smoke, leaving Ames and I to face off.

 _Ames_.

He'd always been a dark guy, a Slytherin, but Death Eater? Ames?

" _Stupefy_ ," Ames casts.

" _Ennervate_!" I shout back, deflecting his spell. The flash of red light fades away, and I look into Ames's blue eyes again. "You know me…"

"I do," he responds.

"You don't need to do this. We don't need to do this."

Ames looks at me for a second before sighing, "Velma…"

"I don't-"

" _Expelliarmus,"_ Ames says, pointing his wand at me. I dodge it, and from the corner of my eye see the light fade behind me.

" _Reducto!_ " I bellow. Ames dodges it as well, and in the back of my mind, I know I'm glad I hadn't hit him.

" _Should I want to hurt him? Is wanting not to wrong_?" I think to myself. " _Or is it wrong to have tried to hit him with it at all_?"

My head tells me that I need to fight him with everything I have to protect myself. To protect Leigh.

My heart tells me that this is my classmate, and I shouldn't be doing this to him.

In the midst of my internal debate, Ames casts, " _Confundus."_ It hits me square in the chest, and puts my mind in a daze. While I'm in this state he mutters, " _Expelliarmus_ …"

My head clears just in time for me to see the spell about to hit me. My wand flies behind me, and I glare at Ames, with his wand clearly pointed at me.

"This what you want?" I ask. "Are you supposed to kill me or just torture me, Ames? Which are you going to do?" He holds his eye contact with me for a few seconds, but stays silent. "Ames?" I ask again, tearfully.

He lowers his wand, his blue eyes still focused in on my gray ones. Ames sighs again, "Velma…"

He moves in such quick motions, just watching him cast his spells, distracts me. " _Incendio_ ," he says. I jump to my wand to cast a water spell, but I soon realize, Ames was pointing to the ground. The flames spread between us, separating us, but clearly not putting me in any danger. Through the flames, Ames looks back at me. I can just make out the blue in his eyes.

"You got to get out of here, Velma," he says sternly to me.

"But-"

"Velma!" he shouts. The uncommon intensity of his voice surprises me. "Velma, you need to protect yourself."

He waves his wand at me, and I can't make out the words he's saying, but I suddenly find myself running away from him, towards where Madame Pomfrey is evacuating students to Hogsmade. I make it out and sit in the snow with Winona and Kane huddled near me. I keep Leigh in close view and every once in a while ruffle his hair. I stare up at Hogwarts, flames and bright spells occasionally shooting up to the sky. I worry about the teachers, the older students who stayed to fight, Marissa, and, surprising myself, I think about Ames.

Blonde tousled hair. Sad blue eyes. Skinny, tall, and slouching. Staring at me from the opposite side of the fire.


	2. Everything's Fine

**Chapter Two** **–** **Everything's Fine**

Three Years Later

I stare out the window of the Hogwarts Express, watching the scenery go by, leaning my forehead on the window. Mom always described the train as an exciting trip, when people would laugh and eat candy and try out wizarding toys. It's different now, to say the least.

Kane, Winona, and I all sit quietly in our compartment. I sit with my knees pulled into my chest with Choo-Choo, now my personal owl, and Artie, Winona's owl, in cages next to me. Kane and Winona sit across from me. Kane is reading a muggle book, _Flowers for Algernon_ , and Winona is charming old candy wrappers to fold up into fancy origami.

Winona notices me watching her and looks up. She brushes her light blonde hair from her eyes and smiles softly at me. "You doing okay?" Kane leaves his book in front of his face, but flicks his eyes up to me. Kane and Winona share a glance, but quickly break eye contact to focus back on me.

"I'm doing fine," I say as I sit up from the window. "I'm just tired."

"Bullshit," Kane deadpans. He doesn't move his book away when he says it. He doesn't even look up at me when he says it.

I sit up and lean my elbows against my knees getting closer to Kane. If he'd just look at me, I'd be able to glare at him. "Kane, I don't feel like talking about anything right now, okay?"

"Fine," Kane says as he lowers his book. "But say that, okay? Don't just lie and say everything is fine. I'd rather you say, 'I kinda feel like shit, but I don't like addressing my issues.' It's fine to feel shitty every once in a while, you know?"

I hate how in his own way, Kane is somehow always right. I sigh, "I'm not okay. That last few years have been crappy. I don't feel like talking about it."

"There you go," Kane says to me. He strokes the cat on his lap, all black with green eyes. His name is Comma, a name Kane justifies because his parents are English majors. "But…" Kane begins as he takes a sip of his pumpkin juice. "I think you'll feel better if you talk about it…"

Our compartment goes quiet for a second. The only sounds filling it are the train rattling along the tracks and Winona's candy wrappers folding themselves into little birds. She glances between Kane and me, trying to decide who she'll agree with. Winona hates picking sides when Kane and I argue, and honestly, Kane and I really do argue too much.

My head tells me to pour all the things that are bothering me out on the table and get it all out of my system.

My heart tells me to push the bad thoughts away for now because it doesn't feel like getting hurt with all the emotions.

I decide to compromise. "I'll talk about one thing that's bothering me," I offer. "Will that make you happy?"

Kane breaks out into a smile. "What are you going to try and figure out?" He asks me. "Calix, classes, or family?"

"Calix," I choose. I lean back in my seat and unwrap a chocolate frog. I glance at the card to avoid the topic. Merlin. I hold the card out to Kane, whom has been fascinated with chocolate frog cards since I first met him on the train our first year. "You want it?"

Kane, the lazy bum he is, flicks his want and says, " _Accio_." It flies the maybe foot long distance between our hands and lands in his palm. Winona and I glance at each other disapprovingly. Kane rolls his eyes, "I barely get to do any magic outside of school. It's been a long summer, guys. Standing up and walking over to get things."

"I don't get to do magic outside of school," I retort.

"You can do when you're with your cousins," Kane argues. He turns to Winona, "And you with the two wizard parent house. I'm jealous."

Winona merely shrugs and rolls her eyes at him. Kane is muggle-born. He once told me a story of the first time he'd used magic. It was surprisingly uneventful; he'd thought for months he had a lamp that turned on and off when you tapped it, when in reality it had a switch.

"That's it?" I had asked him. "That was your big introduction to being a wizard?"

"It was a big moment for me," Kane had responded. "You should've seen my face when my mom used the switch the first time."

"Wait, you're changing the subject!" present-day Kane yells at me, taking me out of my memory. "Don't distract me. You're supposed to be talking about Calix."

I curl my toes in my shoes and mutter, "I mean, there's not a lot to talk about." Winona lets out a 'mmm', which I respond by kicking her leg. I try to pop the chocolate frog in my mouth, but I've waited too long and it hops away. Winona tosses me another one as an apology.

"Okay," I sigh. "I'm kind of upset of how things went down between Calix and me. It's one of those, 'I could've done this,' and 'he could've been more this' things. It's- It's just… Not good. I just figured I steer clear of him until tensions die down or we graduate. Whichever comes first." Kane just keeps staring at me, all narrowed brown eyes and all-knowing smirk. "God, don't look at me like that," I exclaim. "I'm _fine_!"

I am not fine. Calix Clyne and I had started dating toward the beginning of our sixth year. Calix is a lot of good things. Intelligent, good hair, hardworking, talented, nice eyes, ambitious. He's a Ravenclaw, a prefect even. He is a Keeper on the Quidditch team and is ranked high in nearly all classes. When we started dating, from an outsider's perspective, we would look flawless. We really, really weren't though. I'm a lot to handle sometimes, I know that. Then Calix would focus on his classes and would focus on Quidditch, and I ended up in an emotional wreck sometimes and Calix would get frustrated and then I would get mad and then we'd just end up unhappy, but by the next day we'd be holding hands in the corridors.

Not good.

We'd broken up just before school let out, after final tests _of course_. It'd be inconsiderate to give Calix breakup stress right before final exams. The break up itself had been painful, but it wasn't because it was an angry, hateful, spiteful breakup. It was just because I really liked Calix. I always wonder whether pain coming from love is worth it. Is it worth loving something to eventually get the pain of losing it one day?

My heart tells me, yes of course it is. What is anything without love? When is love not ever enough?

My head tells me there are pros and cons to everything, and that I should be wary of choices that I make.

I open up the chocolate frog Winona passed to me and immediately pop it into my mouth before it can hop away. I glare at Kane, "Is that enough emotion talk for the day?"

"For now," he says back to me.

I glance at the card in my hand. Salazar Slytherin. I hold it up to Kane. "You want this one?" I ask him. He looks up at it, but then scrunches his nose and shakes his head.

"You took the Merlin one, but not that one?" Winona asks as she examines a red colored bean from Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. She holds it up to the light. "Vel, what do you think about this one. Cherry or marinara sauce?"

"I don't want the Slytherin card for obvious reasons," Kane scoffs. "The Slytherins have still been getting more and more suspicious even though they got rid of… _you know_."

"I think it might be chili pepper," I say.

"I don't trust any of them," Kane mutters.

"That's smart, Kane. Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans can be gross," I respond, only semi listening to Kane since I am way too focused on Winona.

"Should I try it?" Winona asks.

I shrug. "Go ahead."

"Throwing elbows during Quidditch…"

Winona tosses the bean into her mouth with a small smile. As she chews, the smile fades away. "Oh, my god…"

"What?" I ask.

"Calling me a Mudblood before I even knew what the word Mudblood meant…"

"I think it's blood flavored…" Winona says as she makes a disgusted face.

I frown at her. "Spit it out!"

"No, I'm committing to this," Winona calmly replies.

"Why should they even care so much about my parents? Who are their parents? Death Eaters, probably."

Winona finishes the bean and makes a face at me. I wrinkle my nose up, just thinking about eating one that flavor, and say, "I can't believe I thought it was chili pepper."

"I can't believe I'd rather it was a chili pepper. That was absolutely disgusting!" Winona groans as she takes a sip of Kane's pumpkin juice. "This is what I get for choosing the red beans."

"They're all the same!" Kane growls.

"What?" Winona asks him. "There's a very big difference between red for cherry and red for blood."

Kane looks at us confused, but then glances around seeing the open box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. He glares at us, "You guys weren't listening to me, were you?" We both shake our heads. "Whatever. Point is, I don't want the card, Vel."

"Okay," I say as I stand. "I'll go see if Leigh wants it. I need to go and talk to him about Marissa anyway."

"Do you want me to go with you?" Winona asks.

"I'll be fine," I respond as I step out of our compartment. From the corner of my eye, I see Winona and Kane share a worried glance, but I leave on my own before they can stop me.

I walk down the train's hallway and knock on the door where Leigh and his group of friends sit. Leigh is a fourth year now. His dark hair is longer and curlier than it ever has been. He has the same pale gray eyes I do and the same tanned skin my entire family has. When Leigh sees me, he says something to his friends quickly and meets me in the hallway.

"Hey Velma," Leigh says.

"Hey," I respond. I hold the Chocolate Frog card out to him. "So… I got this one. Kane didn't want it so… you want it?"

Leigh takes the Salazar Slytherin card in his hand and flips it over, examining it. He shakes his head and hands it back to me, "Nah." There's an awkward silence between us for a moment. "So, um, did you want to talk about Marissa?"

"Yeah," I say, taking back the card. I put it in my pocket and plan to throw it away since I don't want to be carrying a Slytherin card either. "When do you want to visit her portrait? After or before the house sorting?"

"We can meet up before," Leigh sighs.

I nod at him. Marissa's portrait is with the other students who died during the Battle of Hogwarts.

Marissa's death was difficult to say the least for my entire family, but it was just really, really hard on my dad. Dad, who had to live alone while he sent his children off to a world he didn't understand. Dad, who lost my mom when I was seven. She herself was a half-blood, which made herself susceptible to muggle diseases. Cancer took her life; it was a quick illness, I can be thankful for that. I didn't have to watch her die slowly, getting weaker and weaker by the day. A few months after she died was Marissa's first year at Hogwarts, and my poor muggle dad had forced himself to run headfirst into the Platform 9 ¾ wall without my mother.

"You okay?" Leigh asks me.

I sigh heavily and close my eyes for a moment. "Been better. I'll find you later." I reach up to ruffle Leigh's dark hair, even though he's taller than I am now. He grins at me, and then he goes into his compartment. I say bye to him and his friends and then turn back into the hallway.

Bells ring from down the hallway, catching my attention. The trolley lady is over there. I feel around in my pants pockets and thankfully feel some coins. I walk over to the Honeydukes Express, and once I get there, the old woman smiles warmly at me.

"Anything from the trolley?" she asks me.

"Three Fizzing Whizzbees, please," I say as I hand her my money. She nods at me and bends down to grab them from the bottom of her trolley. As she gets my candy, I glance around the other compartments to see if any of my other friends are nearby. I see Sharon and Walt sitting in a compartment, and Ellis, Ridley, and Hannes sitting in another one. We smile at each other, and a warm feeling suddenly rushes over me. I get to back to Hogwarts. A _safe_ Hogwarts. I get to spend time with my friends. I get to learn _magic_.

I turn to the left and look into the other compartments. That's when I see Calix, his wavy reddish brown hair completely recognizable, with his back toward me, kissing a Ravenclaw a year younger than us. Someone else in the compartment with him must see me because Calix suddenly stops kissing Bay, the Ravenclaw girl, and turns around to look at me.

My cheeks turn red and I feel my eyes start to get watery. Whenever I start crying, I can never get myself to stop. I get frustrated and angry, which make frustrated and angry tears add to the sad ones. Calix stands up, but doesn't move. I quickly take the Fizzing Whizzbees from the trolley witch and hurriedly spin around. I've been standing here so long, a little line as formed behind me. At the front of which is Renata and Ames.

Renata has been watching Calix and me, obviously enjoying my embarrassment. She lets go of Ames's hand and puts her hands on her hips. She smirks down at me. "Your Ravenclaw boyfriend find someone to make out with already?"

Renata is a lot taller than me, and a lot bigger. So big, in fact, that even though she's a girl, she plays as Keeper on the Slytherin Quidditch team. I stand my ground and with no fear mutter, "Don't start with me, Renata."

I try to pass her, but she blocks the hallway. "Or what?"

"Or I'll hex your fat ass before you even get your wand out," I growl.

Her eyes widen, but then she sneers down at me. "You know, you're going to end up like that loser Hufflepuff sister of yours. Gone, without anyone noticing or caring."

Her words hit me hard. I'm completely flustered, and while on a usual occasion I'd be fine with arguing with her and probably casting a few jinxes, her low blow about my sister shakes me to my core. I notice the other students watching us, even the trolley witch has taken notice.

Tension hangs in the air, and Renata looks like she's about to say something, but then Ames grabs her by the shoulder. He frowns at her and in a low, but angry voice he says, "That's a goddamn shitty thing to say, Renata." Renata looks taken aback. Ames is known for showing little emotion, so this sliver of anger he gives her really goes a long way. Ames and I make eye-contact for a moment. Yellow-blonde hair. Skinny and tall. Light blue eyes. Without another word, he walks past me and then past the trolley witch without saying anything. Renata stands there dumbfounded for a second, but then hurries down the hall.

I stand there for a few seconds looking at all the other students around me. Their facial expressions vary from amused to pitiful. I don't know which I prefer.

"Any of you have something to say?" I hiss.

And at that, everyone stops paying attention to me. I rush down the hall back to my compartment. I get in and slam the door behind me.

"Got you guys these," I huff as I toss Winona and Kane each a packet of Fizzing Whizzbees. I open my candy and pop one in my mouth. Immediately, I feel myself lift from my seat a little.

"What happened?" Winona asks me.

"Nothing," I say. "Nothing ever happens."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Kane asks. He put a few Fizzing Whizzbees in his mouth already, and he's about a foot above his chair.

"Heh," I laugh. "What do you think, Kane?"


	3. Not Marissa

**Chapter Three** **– Not Marissa**

"Ravenclaw!" the Sorting Hat cries out.

The Great Hall erupts into a thundering applause as the dark skinned first year strolls over to the Ravenclaw table. He has a proud, almost smug, smile on his face, like he had no doubts that he would be in any other house.

I sit at the long tables with other Gryffindors, applauding with the rest of the school. Headmistress McGonagall calls another name, and a short boy with spiky hair takes the stool.

From under the table, I feel Winona kick my leg. When I glance up at her, she curls her finger in toward herself. I lean across the table, so she can whisper to me.

"Did you actually get into a fight with Renata on the train?" she asks accusingly.

I glare at her and sigh, "Who told?" Winona merely points at Walt, who sits next to her with his arm draped casually around Winona's shoulders. I shoot a glare at him, and he waves apologetically at me. I turn to Winona. "It was barely a fight," I say.

"It was pretty tense," Sharon, who is sitting on my left says.

"The actual school year hasn't even started yet," Winona sighs.

Walt nudges Winona's head with his own. "Don't blame Vel for the fight. Renata was saying some pretty messed up stuff to her," he says. I look at him with a meaningful stare. I don't want to talk about what happened on the ride here.

"Ravenclaw!" the Sorting Hat decides. More applause.

"Darra Whitt."

A taller girl with curly brown hair sits on the stool. The sorting hat is placed on her head, and the room goes silent. As I look at the girl, I realize something about her. The curls. The complexion. The height. It takes me a moment, but then I finally process her last name.

"Hey Sharon," I whisper, "Is that your little sister?"

Sharon grins at me. "Yep. That's Darcie."

"Where does she wanna go? Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Gryffindor?" Kane asks.

Sharon shrugs, "She doesn't really know where she's gonna go since my brother and I are Gryffindors, but our other sister was a Ravenclaw. I'm hoping she's hoping for Gryffindor."

We wait in anticipation. A few more seconds pass. The seconds turn into minutes. The minutes continue increasing. My friends and I are sitting a bit aways from the front of the room, so I can't clearly see Darcie's face. I wonder if she'll be a Hatstall, something I've heard about, but never actually witnessed before. The hall's silence turns from curious to uncomfortable. Sharon, however, looks unconcerned for her little sister.

"How long has it been?" I ask Sharon.

"We just past four minutes," Sharon answers.

The Sorting Hat takes a breath, as it always does when it is about to speak. In a loud voice, it cries out, "Slytherin!"

"What..?" Sharon breathes.

The hall breaks into a noticeably lighter applause as it did for all the other first years sent to Slytherin. I look at Sharon, who looks absolutely dumbfounded. Her eyes are wide, and her mouth is sealed in a perfectly straight line. I glance at all my other friends. Walt and Winona both look worriedly at Sharon; Walt with his dark eyebrows furrowed, and Winona chewing on the side of her bottom lip. Kane is turned away from us, looking at the Slytherin table. These past years, the number of Slytherins has lowered significantly. There are much fewer first year Slytherins than in any other house.

"Are you okay, Shar?" Winona asks gently.

Sharon shakes her head and speaks in a breathy voice, "I mean… Just… My parents are going to be so pissed."

Kane opens his mouth, about to say something, but I hear a thud from under the table. I have no doubts that Winona kicked him in the leg to shut him up. I notice Kane's jaw tighten, but he stays silent.

I myself am about to say something, but I then realize the rest of the hall has gone quiet. I look away from Kane and Winona to see that the school choir has come to the front of the hall. They file in neat lines, the back lines levitating up as if they were standing on risers behind them. I recognize a few students up there, and I feel an uneasy feeling in my gut when I see Ames up there.

Swept back blonde hair. Neat robes. Slytherin badge.

Professor Flitwick's wand begins flowing through the air, vibrant colors spilling on to the singers telling them when to sing. The choir starts off in a low hum but slowly breaks into flowing harmonies. They sing a song telling the story of the sisters. The story is famous, despite the sad ending. It's about two sisters who loved each other very much, until they both fell in love with the same boy. The boy ultimately chooses the older sister, and in a jealous rage, the younger sister kills her older sister. She stages her older sister's death as an accident, and marries her sister's husband herself. The story ends after younger sister has lived a long, but empty life; she looks around and finds herself all alone and regretting all the choices she made, wishing she could make different choices.

The choir ends their song.

"Are you crying?" I hear Walt ask.

I touch my cheek, and I notice a tear that has fallen. I open my mouth to respond to him, but instead, Sharon starts speaking to him. I quickly wipe my own tear away and turn to Sharon. Her eyes are watery and a few tears have rolled down her face.

"Yeah," she sniffs. "Yeah. I was just… The song you know? I don't know how my older sister is going to react to Darcie being sorted into Slytherin. She, uh," Sharon sniffles again, "had issues with them in her seventh year."

I nod knowingly. Sharon's older sister, Nan, was in the same year as Marissa. They weren't very close but liked each other. To put it into simple terms: shit went down that year.

From the front of the room, breaking us out of our conversation, McGonagall ends her beginning of the year speech and calls out, "Let the feast begin!"

The food platters appear in front of us, and the school begins cheering. I look across the table and grimace at Winona. You'd never think it by just talking to or looking at her, but Winona eats like crazy. From either side of her, Kane and Walt have slid away from Winona in order to give her more room for her eating.

I met Winona during our first Great Feast, actually.

Winona had been sitting next to me and was digging into her mashed potatoes vigorously. So vigorously that pieces of her potatoes had been falling into my own food. She eventually finished her mashed potatoes and alternated bites from a plate of roast chicken and pork chops. At some point, she had reached over to my plate, and accidentally took one of my pork chops and started eating it.

My eleven year-old self had glared at the eleven year-old version of Winona. "You can't just take the food off someone's plate," I said defensively.

First year Winona looked down at what she was chewing on and pulled it out of her mouth. She held it out to me, and in her surprisingly gentle voice asked, "Do you want it back?"

Defying her expectations, I took the half-eaten pork chop out of her hands and finished it myself.

The only time I really questioned Winona about her eating habits was during the Christmas Feast of our third year.

Kane, Winona, and I were all sitting together. Kane and I sat on one side of the table, leaving Winona with all the space she wanted on her side. Winona was only eating desserts that day, calling it her 'Christmas present to herself.'

Thirteen year-old Kane frowned as he watched Winona eat. "Your broom isn't going to be able to hold you up if you keep eating like that, Win," he said to her. I heard a low thump from under the table. Kane groaned, "Ow, you kick really hard, Winona…"

"How _do_ you eat so much?" my third year self asked her suspiciously. "Do you use a spell to speed up your metabolism? Do you have a special potion that you use?"

Winona took a second to look up from her apple pie to smile softly at me. Not only was the sheer amount she could eat that was, and still is, impressive, but the way that she kept herself looking so neat and pristine was as well. She took a moment to tuck a loose strand of blonde hair back behind her ear.

She grinned at me, "I'll never tell."

Things haven't changed too much. I watch the current, seventh year Winona tear into her turkey and happily drink her butterbeer. I take a few bites into a small muffin and stand up.

"Is that it?" Winona asks me once she swallows her food and wipes her mouth. "I was fasting on the train to prep for this meal."

Kane frowns. Through a mouthful of chicken he says, "Do you not remember all those jelly beans you had?"

"That _is_ fasting for me," Winona sighs. "Don't chew with your mouth open, Kane. It's disgusting."

"Sorry…" Kane mutters, even though his mouth is still full of chicken.

"I'll be back in a sec," I say. "I'm just going to visit Marissa's portrait."

"Didn't you say that you and Leigh were supposed to visit Marissa _before_ the Sorting?" Kane asks.

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, we did. Leigh changed his mind last minute and decided that we should just do it after. Little bugger is crap at making plans." I notice Winona slowing down on her eating and staring at me with watchful eyes. I look at her and sigh, "I'll be _fine_. You can stay here and eat." Winona nods at me, thankful, and goes right back to eating a small bowl of pasta.

I head to the corridor leading into the Great Hall and feel my body tense with every step I take. There, all the pictures of the students who died during the Battle of Hogwarts are hung. It barely takes me a second to find Marissa's. In her portrait, she's wearing her Hufflepuff robes. Her wavy dark hair frames her round face falls at her shoulders. Her smile is sweet as it ever was. She moves a little in the portrait, blinking and glancing around from time to time. Her portrait isn't as animated as other ones. The obvious reason we decided she isn't so active in the photo is because the painter didn't really know Marissa, so the magic wouldn't be able to work as powerfully. My family's personal reason was mainly because of my dad. He didn't like the idea of having something so alive of Marissa still around.

Leigh and I had tried to convince our dad to reconsider.

"She'll just say phrases we ask her too, Dad," I had told him. "Portraits are all over the castle."

Leigh had nodded in agreement, his voice full of desperation. "Yeah, please, Dad? We'll be able to talk to her if we need her-"

Our dad had interrupted my brother. "See that is just the thing, Leigh. I don't want you talking to her. You can keep talking to some _painting_ , but that's not her. It'll just make it harder to let her go. She's _gone_."

He had said that phrase so determined and cold. _She's gone_. It had silenced my brother and me almost immediately. Of course, he was right. Marissa died.

Leigh walks up to me as I stared up at Marissa's smiling face. Unlike my own smile, which was more often than not sarcastic, hers is so genuine and warm. Her eyes are different from mine and Leigh's as well; hers are a gray-blue. In all the ways that didn't matter, she was so different than me, and in all the ways that did matter, we were the same. We liked different subjects and different foods and different personalities, but we liked the same hearts and the same ideas and the same reasons.

"Hey Marissa," Leigh quietly says.

"Hey sis," I say as well.

The three of us exist together for a little while. The three Caplan siblings, together again. In her portrait, you can see Marissa's chest rising and falling a little. I never thought that'd be something I'd miss about a person, just breathing. There's a lot of things I didn't realize I would miss about Marissa. I miss the funny way her hiccups sounded. I miss the way she would tap her fingers when she was nervous or the way she drum them when she was angry. I miss her insisting on braiding my hair in the mornings. I miss having a sister.

"I hate that you're gone," Leigh says. While he says it to Marissa, I also know that he's saying it to me as well. My brother is the only one who knows about the promise Marissa and I made that night. And, yes, he does blame me a little. She promised to stay; I promised to leave. I broke my promise, and she died. I did break the promise for Leigh, of course, but when you're an eleven year old boy, you blame what you can.

Eleven year old Leigh had stared up at me with big gray eyes, "You promised her…"

All I could do was shake my head. "I had to save you… It could've been both-"

"Promises were important to Marissa and you broke yours to her!" Leigh had shouted at me. "She was out there because you were out there!"

"And the second time, I was out there because you were out there!" I had shouted back at him. "You are a _lot_ like me, Leigh."

I shake the memory away and look back up at Marissa. I'm the same age as her now, and that thought makes me feel weak at the knees.

"I hate that she's gone too," I say to Leigh. I can never think of much to say when Leigh and I try to talk about Marissa. Our dad had stuck us into muggle therapy after the summer she died. It was a pretty good idea, since (surprise, surprise) Hogwarts hadn't done much to help us cope. The sessions weren't bad, but that was the only place Leigh and I were good at talking about stuff like that.

Leigh sneers, "And I hate that _his_ picture is up next to hers."

I glance at the portrait next to Marissa. It's a boy, kind of chubby, pale, round and shaved head. He's wearing Slytherin robes. Under his portrait, the nameplate reads, 'Vincent Crabbe.'

I close my eyes tight and shake away bad thoughts. "Yeah, I remember him. He was one of them who did the Cruciatus Curse as punishment."

"Why is _his_ picture up?"

"He was a student that died at the Battle of Hogwarts, that's why."

"He was a Death Eater."

"Well, I guess the school thought forgiveness is important."

"That's completely idiotic."

"I don't know what you want me to say, Leigh."

"Well, I don't want you to give me some shitty fake answer!"

"God, I don't know, Leigh! It is _good_ to forgive!" I shout at him. My voice echoes around the corridor, and Leigh keeps on staring up at the wall, his arms crossed and his body tense. My voice softens, but it's colder, "That's what Marissa thought, at least."

He turns to me. His deadly glare hurts to look at. "Neither," he hisses, "of us are Marissa."

Leigh spins around and stomps back to the Great Hall. I sigh heavily as I stare up at Marissa's portrait. She was my favorite sibling, but the thing is, she was Leigh's favorite sibling too. I wish she were here. I wish she wasn't dead.

After another minute of silence, I start walking back to the Great Hall as well. All my friends watch me closely as I take a seat down next to them.

"How was it?" Sharon asks.

I shrug as I grab a small bowl of pasta. "Good to see her portrait."

They all cautiously look at me. I know they saw Leigh stomping by, but it seems like they all have the good sense not to bring it up to me. We keep eating.

It does all feel normal right now.


	4. Calix and Lorelei

**Chapter Four** **–** **Calix and Lorelei**

"Should I send my parents an owl?" Sharon asks me as we walk down the halls together. "Or should Darcie write the letter?"

I offered to walk with Sharon for a little bit after the Beginning of the Year Feast had ended. Walt and Winona, the Gryffindor Head Boy and Girl this year, had left to go show the first years around the castle, while Kane and Ellis went up to the Common Room to set up a prank for Walt. They all went off leaving me sitting at the table with a sulking Sharon.

I shrug, unable to think of anything better to offer Sharon. "Maybe never tell them?" I try to joke to cheer up Sharon. "Replace Darcie's Slytherin robes with some Gryffindor ones? She's really tall for her age; I bet she'd be able to fit into mine."

Sharon knits her eyebrows together in thought, apparently taking this offer seriously. We exit the hallway and find our way out to the main courtyard. Many older students are out. They stand around, some laughing and talking, some practicing magic. I let Sharon think as I watch light flow from the wands.

"Magic," I internally remind myself. "You get to practice magic." A group of students laugh as a Ravenclaw girl levitates herself. I force my mouth into a smile, "Try not to be so complicated this year."

"Sharon! Velma!" a voice calls to us.

We both turn around to see Lorelei Malecot jogging over towards us. Her long red-blonde hair flows behind her and her freckled face grins at us. From behind her, her friends, Oka and Juniper, try to catch up. Sharon and I share a glance. I like Oka, another Gryffindor in our year, and Juni, a Ravenclaw in our year, fine, but Lorelei has been a bit difficult (to put it kindly). Lorelei has never really liked us because we're friends with Winona, whom she hates.

From what I've gathered, Lorelei has disliked Winona for a while, but really started to hate her ever since our fifth year, when Winona was chosen to be the female Gryffindor Prefect. It also didn't help that Winona's male counterpart was Walt, who Lorelei has had a crush on for as long as I can remember.

Towards the end of the last year I was walking down the hall with Kane when I overheard Lorelei trying to flirt with Walt.

"Yeah! We should totally go visit Hogsmeade before we go home!" Lorelei giggled a little bit too loudly.

Walt rubbed the back of his neck and smiled faintly at Lorelei. "Yeah… Maybe Honeydukes or something?"

"Or!" Lorelei bubbled, "Maybe Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop?"

"Or! Or maybe Zonko's?" Walt awkwardly offered. Walt had caught sight of Kane and me, and desperately tried to get us to walk over to him. Kane and I pretended not to notice, and we walked away. As bad as I felt for Walt, I was not about to get in between him and Lorelei.

I get why Lorelei has a crush on Walt. Walt is sweet and level headed and a little dorky at times. Often times he can get a little overbearing, but I wouldn't expect many alternatives for the Head Boy of Gryffindor. Walt looks brooding without having the brooding personality. His black hair is usually slicked back and his eyes are an almost intimidating dark shade of brown. He has bad posture and slouches a little bit when he walks; it's not the sloppy kind of slouch though. It's more of a suave, rock star like slouch. Honestly, if I weren't so vehemently rooting for him and Winona, I'd probably have a crush on him myself.

Despite the two not actually dating yet, I have never seen two people so fundamentally right for each other like Walt and Winona are. No one, not even Kane or me, brings out the best in Winona like Walt does. Walt makes Winona brighter, like Winona with the volume turned up, and Walt is never more relaxed than when he is with Winona. When they're together, the two laugh and tease each other and give off so much positive light, it makes even someone as pessimistic as me less cynical about relationships.

I remember there was some point last year when my relationship with Calix had taken a very bad turn. He was busy working and practically locked himself in the library to study, coming up for air, food, and water once every week or so. Winona had taken me to the library to see if we could find him anywhere, but when we realized we couldn't, we sat together in between the rows and rows of books. Walt was volunteering at the library at the time and, being bored with work, decided to come bother us.

And when I say 'us', I really do mean both of us. Walt was mostly there for Winona, but wasn't about to exclude me to focus only on Winona. That being said, I did move out of the aisle to leave them alone since, you know, _I_ want him to focus on Winona. I sat at a table outside the row and watched Walt and Winona talk. They were sitting on the floor side by side, their backs leaning against the bookshelves. Winona wasn't _technically_ Walt's lap, but her legs were stretched out over Walt's extended legs, and her head rested against his shoulder.

"Aren't you supposed to be working?" I had heard Winona say teasingly.

"I _am_ working," Walt had responded to her as he twirled a strand of Winona's hair between his fingers.

"The librarian is going to be mad at you if she sees you slacking," Winona had said, swatting his hand away, but keeping her legs over his.

Walt had grinned at her, "I'd be fine with that."

I smiled at Walt and Winona. Seeing the two of them like that, despite my awful situation with Calix, made me hopeful, as cheesy as that sounds. When they get together, I swear to God, at least half of our year is going to throw a party. Of course, Lorelei would not be one celebrating.

I force myself out of the happy memory of Walt and Winona and grimace at Lorelei in the courtyard. "Hey Lorelei," I say. "Oka, Juni."

Before Oka or Juni can say anything to Sharon or myself, Lorelei cuts in. "So, Sharon," she starts. "Your sister was that last girl sorted into Slytherin, right?"

Sharon puffs up her cheeks with air and then quickly releases it. I've seen her do that a few times; she does it when she's angry or lying. Sharon grins, "Yeah! Darcie ended up in Slytherin! _My_ little sister…"

"And you're fine with it?" Lorelei asks, getting louder and louder. I narrow my gaze at her.

"Of course I am…" Sharon says as her voice tenses.

"You're fine with your little sister hanging out with all those Death Eaters?" Lorelei says loud enough for the entire courtyard to hear us.

Everyone turns to look at Sharon. I see color rise in Sharon's cheeks from embarrassment; mine would be flushed too, if I weren't so mad. My voice lowers, "Lorelei…"

"Are you fine with it, Vel?" she asks me. I don't respond. From the corner of my eye, I see a group of Slytherin boys watching us, some from the group making their way over to us. Lorelei continues, "I've heard what you've said about the Slytherins in the Common Room."

"What do you say about the Slytherins, Velma?" Holt, one of the Slytherin boys, asks me. I turn back to say something to Lorelei, but she's already taken a step back, ready to watch the show. "What comes out of that little half-muggle brain of yours?"

I stand my ground against Holt, who is only a few inches taller than myself. "I talk about how they killed my-" my voice fizzles out. Ames is with the group of Slytherin and his eyes are staring at me with such an intensity, even though the rest of his face shows little emotion. What is that look he's giving me? Sympathy? Pity?

Luckily for me, Sharon is there to save me from embarrassment. Sharon takes a step next to me and glares at the group of boys. "She shouldn't need to specify what happened."

Holt takes a step closer to Sharon, smirking. "That cute little first year is your sister?"

Sharon's cheeks fill in with air but quickly deflates again. Her eyes darken and she closes the gap between us and the Slytherin boys even more. "If you even think about messing with her-"

"Shar-Bear," Holt says condescendingly. "You know that I'm a nice guy. Besides, your sister is pretty good looking for a first year… I know a few guys who would be more than willing to help her feel at home in the dorms."

Before I have time to even blink, Sharon's pulled her wand out. She points it directly in Holt's face and shouts, " _Inflatus_!"

Immediately, Holt's entire body starts to inflate like a balloon. He rises up into the air, and one of the boys grabs Holt by the arm and keeps him grounded. Sharon still stands there, laser focused on her jinx, making sure she doesn't break eye contact from Holt. I notice one of the boys start to reach for his wand, but I pull out mine and cast a nonverbal _stupefy_ at him. He freezes and falls to the ground.

I prepare myself to cast another spell, when Ames catches me by the arm, preventing me to flick my wand. He holds my arm by the wrist close to his chest.

"C'mon, Velma…" Ames says to me forcefully, like saying that to me will be enough.

I pull my arm away from him, forcing him to let go of my arm. I point my wand directly into his chest. I wave my wand at him, and cast a different nonverbal spell, pushing him away from me. Ames goes flying back, but I roll my eyes as he lands on his feet like a cat would. Honestly, who does Ames think he is? He doesn't get to talk to me like that.

I hear a great _whoosh_ of air from behind me. I quickly spin around to see Holt deflating, which really is a weird thing to watch. His stomach flattens out, and one of the other boys helps to lower him onto the ground. Once he's on the ground, he tries to glare at Sharon, but looks too sick to really give it any effort. It really does look like he's about to throw up. I turn to say something to Sharon, but I then notice Winona and Walt standing on either side of her.

Shit.

Ames and I share one last glance. Any trace of emotion is void from his face, but his eyes suddenly flash with something that I can't quite place. For a moment, my mind goes back to the battle of Hogwarts, and looking at Ames through the fire. I never told anyone about that night. What could I say about it to make it not sound insane? How do you tell someone that story? And if I did tell someone, wouldn't it make Ames the villain?

My head tells me that, yes, he was the villain. Slytherin and a Death Eater mother. What more evidence did I want?

My heart reminds me that he, in some way, saved me that night.

Despite having years of time to think and reflect, I'm not sure how to feel about Ames. His mother was clearly one of them, and he was clearly sided with them as well. Was he inherently bad or was it the way he was raised? Did he have a choice? Was he threatened? Did he change his way of thinking?

Do I trust him?

No.

I look away from Ames and decide to push my side thoughts away. Winona, Walt, and Sharon walk over to me. Winona merely frowns at me and shakes her head. Walt, however, is more focused on Lorelei. He walks over to her; his strut so determined, it makes her swoon. Sharon, Winona, and I watch on with interest.

"Did you egg her on, Lorie?" Walt asks seriously. Lorelei merely smiles at him with an almost devious look.

Simultaneously, Sharon and I raise our eyebrows as we both look at Winona. Winona seethes a little bit. "Lorie?" she scoffs. "He calls her Lorie?"

"Don't worry about it, Win," I reassure her.

Lorelei tilts her head to the side a little and pouts at Walt. She takes a strand of her long hair in between her fingers and twirls it a little. "I thought you'd know me a little better than that, Wally," she says in her sing-song voice. "Sharon and Velma were just being their usual selves."

" _Wally?"_ Winona quietly exclaims. "Who calls Walt _Wally_?"

"Uh oh," Sharon breathes. "Maybe worry about that a little."

Walt looks between us and Lorelei frowning. He leans in to say something to her, but we're too far away to hear exactly what he says. Walt turns away from her, and walks towards us. He frowns and scrunches his face up so much that wrinkles form on his forehead. "Well, you guys took away the first forty points from Gryffindor. We now have a negative amount of points."

He walks off angrily with Lorelei following him and Oka and Juni following her. Sharon, Winona, and I stand in the courtyard for a little bit. Sharon glares at the Slytherin boys. Winona I hear quietly muttering about 'Wally' and how 'that's the worst name for Walt I've ever heard'. I close my eyes and rub my temples. Without a doubt, when we get back to the Common Rooms, Leigh, the competitive little bugger that he is, is going to give me a hard time about the negative points. That's why when Sharon and Winona start to talk about heading back to the Common Room, I decline.

"Don't you want to claim some space in the dorms before Lorelei takes it up?" Sharon asks with loads of contempt in her voice.

I shake my head, "Just save spot for me if she hasn't claimed half the room already."

"Are you sure you don't want us to walk around with you?" Winona offers again. I tell her I want to be alone for a bit, and she accepts this. "Just remember," she reminds me, "curfew is in an hour. Don't be late or I'll deduct more points when you get back."

"Win, stop," Sharon laughs. "You're getting all your pretentious Head Girl stink all over me."

My friends laugh as they walk back toward the staircases to the Common Room. Before I start to wander, I look at them affectionately. Sharon's dark curls bouncing as she walks and Winona's light wispy contrasting Sharon's hair nicely.

"Vel!" someone's voice pulls me out of my thoughts. I glance away from my friends to see Calix jogging toward me.

Instantly, I feel myself blush all the way down to my toes. I really hate it when that happens, but when I get nervous my feet sweat. I've only spent all summer thinking about Calix, planning how to avoid him, but then realizing I didn't actually want to avoid him, and starting plans on how to run into him, but then realizing I didn't want to run into him either, and then thinking that maybe I should talk to Marissa about him and our situation, but then remembering I couldn't do that because Marissa was dead.

God.

My body and my mind can't seem to make a decision on whether I should stay to talk to Calix, or run to avoid him, so I basically freeze in place and manage to let out stiff wave. Calix smiles at me, with his too bright smile and warm hazel eyes. Whenever he would smile at me like that, I couldn't help but smile back at him. I feel myself start to smile, easing my tension.

"Vel," he says to me, "pretty epic fight."

I laugh awkwardly. Crap, what should I say now? My first reaction is to be a little boastful, but with a touch of humor to it, but I stop myself because this is Calix and he's my ex-boyfriend. Should I go with a self-deprecating joke? Mock the Slytherins? I hate that Calix can make me so unsure of myself.

"So anyway," Calix continues. Shit, I missed my opportunity to say something clever. Calix hunches his shoulders over a little bit, "Look, I'm sorry about what happened on the train."

I don't want to talk about seeing him kiss that Ravenclaw. "Yeah!" I partially exclaim. "The fight was alright, but kinda dumb, and I could have fought way better. I'm just out of practice."

Shit, shit, shit. Why did I say that? Oh, my God. Somebody kill me.

Calix blinks a few times and speaks slowly to me as if he's unsure if I have lost my mind. He does all the little movements I memorized him doing last year. The way he shifts his body weight from one side to another. The way his hands play with the bottom of his shirt. The way he chews the inside of his cheek. I look up at him, embarrassed, and remember how much I had liked him.

"I mean…" I take in a deep breath. "You don't have to be sorry," I manage to whisper. "You shouldn't feel obligated to check in with me for that kind of stuff."

"Oh…" Calix mutters, his hand tugging the hem of his shirt. "I-I didn't mean with Bay. I… I meant with what happened _after_ Bay. You know, with Renata and Ames? And it just… What they said… That wasn't cool."

He says it like saying 'that wasn't cool' is a big favor to me. Like saying that is was shitty of them really should mean a lot to me. I roll my eyes a little at him, but keep silent; were it anyone else, I'd have told them off.

"Anyway," Calix sighs, "if you need anyone to talk about Marissa or whatever, I'd be willing to listen."

I roll my eyes a lot at that. I think of all the times when we were still dating, and when I needed him, and when I needed to talk, and all the times he told me he needed to study or he had Quidditch or whatever lame excuse he had. Of course, I understand the sentiment of what he's getting at, but the way he talks to me is the very definition of 'too little too late.'

"Really?" I ask him. " _Would_ you be willing to talk?"

"That's what I said," Calix says. His voice tenses, and I see something shift in his face. "Look, if you don't want my help, fine, _whatever_."

I huff and feel the exciting blush leave my body, and have it be replaced with an angry warmth. "I did want your help last year, but I learned that you weren't the best person to rely on," I hiss. "Or have you forgotten already?"

"I didn't-" Calix starts, throwing his hands up in the air a little. He stops himself from yelling, glancing around the still semi-crowded courtyard. He rubs his eyes and sighs, "Vel… You knew I had a lot on my plate last year… We talked about this."

"I know," I respond. "It's not like I've been having laid back years either, you know."

"I know," he says.

We stand there for a little a moment. In the dark, facing each other, it reminds me of the first time Calix had kissed me.

Kane and a few of the other boys had bought fireworks from the Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-Bangs collection from the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes store. Students in our year in all the houses (sans Slytherin of course) decided to go out to the lake and set them off together. We knew we'd get in trouble, but liked our odds better if each house were there.

It was cold, and even though I wasn't that cold, Calix insisted that I wear his cloak. We stood together by the edge of the lake with all our classmates watching the fireworks explode in the air and watching the reflections on the lake. Colors from the fireworks rained down on us, and when Calix bent down to brush a little off my shoulder, he leaned in and kissed me.

And that moment was one of those rare moments when my head and my heart agreed on what I should do, and I kissed him back. Maybe it was the literal fireworks exploding behind us, or maybe I just got caught up in the moment, but I think a part of me really thought that that was it. That _he_ was it. I thought Calix was really what I needed to be happy and that he could ease all the pain of the last few years.

In the present, I see the errors in my ways of thinking.

Calix nods at me, still hostile and defensive, but not angry. "Alright," he mutters. Without another word, he walks away. I close my eyes and decide to head up to the Gryffindor Common Room.

v

The Fat Lady smiles at me. "Password?" she asks.

My eyebrows shoot up and I try to rack my brain to try and remember if Winona had told me the password, and if she did, what was it? The Fat Lady looks at me expectantly, and I can see her growing impatience.

"Um…" I say, desperate to remember. I try and think of what Winona would set as the password. Win is my best friend, if anyone should be able to figure it out, it should be me. "Potatoes?" I offer.

The Fat Lady lets out a heavy sigh and glares at me. "You don't know do you?" she asks. When I shrug, she shakes her head at me, "You're starting off the school year very poorly, Miss Caplan."

I groan and knock my forehead against the walls of the castle. "You don't need to remind me."


	5. Professor Potter's Plan

**Chapter Five** **–** **Professor Potter's Plan**

Without a doubt, Harry Potter is handsome.

That's the first thought I have as I watch him at the front of our Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. My second thought is, why is Harry Potter at the front of our Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom? I look from classmate to classmate, trying to get a read on their emotions; some people look indifferent, others excited, but Kane is really the only other one who seems confused and maybe a little shocked by the appearance of The Boy Who Lived.

I lean over to my left and whisper, "Kane." He keeps his eyes on Harry Potter but nods at me. I continue, "That's Harry Potter. Why is he here?" Kane merely shakes his head, completely in awestruck by Harry.

"Honestly," Winona sighs at the two of us. She leans over Kane, who is sitting between us, so I can hear her. "Velma, how forgetful are you? McGonagall talked about him during the announcements before the feast."

"Well, in that case, I'm not forgetful. I'm just a bad listener," I argue.

Harry Potter clears his throat at us, signaling for Winona, Kane, and I to be quiet. I face the front of the classroom, slightly embarrassed, but then focus on my awe of Harry Potter. He looks like I remember him. Tall, messy dark hair, green eyes. He adjusts his round glasses and runs a hand through his hair. He smiles at our class, which we Gryffindors share with the Slytherins. After he waves, he awkwardly shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks from his heels to the balls of his feet.

"Alright," he says, almost unsure of himself. "Hello. I'm Har- erm… Professor Potter. I'm sorry I missed the opening feast, but I was in the midst of a family emergency. Anyway, hi… again. I'm sure you all remember me from… what was it? Four years ago, I suppose. I recognize a good amount of faces." He nods toward the Gryffindors. Harry, Professor Potter, clears his throat and then continues to speak, "Well, let's carry on then. This is your final year of Defense Against the Dark Arts, so I think we should just dive right on in."

He swishes his wand and our desks are suddenly swept to the sides. Other unused desks fly to the center of the room, creating a catwalk. Professor Potter levitates himself up onto the table and paces around it addressing us.

"A few of you," he says, readjusting his glasses. "Are perhaps a little rusty with your magic as your school year has just begun." He smiles slightly, almost as if he is amused him himself. "So, the warm-up lesson of this class is going to be dueling, which is something I find is a very useful thing to learn and practice. Slytherins, choose your strongest first and second to go up to the table and battle; Gryffindors same to you."

My classmates and I have a beat of silence of just looking at each other, wondering what we should do. I think I hear Lorelei about to speak up, but Oka beats her to it. "Well," she says hesitantly as she brushes her bangs out of her eyes, "it's Velma, isn't it?" A few murmurs of agreement break out among my classmates.

"Sure," I answer as I stand up. I grab my wand and twirl it around in my hand. Aspen, with unicorn hair, and 10 inches long exactly. "Who's gonna be my second? Walt? Kane? One of you two?"

Kane and Walt glance at each other reluctantly. While Walt is more skilled, I trust Kane more. When neither of the boys stands up, Lorelei hops up instead. She flashes me a shiny smile, "I'll go with you, Velma."

I immediately frown, and look back to Walt and Kane, trying to will them to tell Lorelei to sit down. Kane almost frantically shakes his head at me, while Walt almost smiles at me with an amused reaction. Having been abandoned by my friends, I turn to Lorelei with a weak grin, "You and me, Lorelei…"

We jump up onto the large dueling table Professor Potter has set up for us. Across the way from us is a girl named Charlotte. Charlotte is quiet, and not too bad for a Slytherin. Behind her is her second, Ames.

I raise up my wand as Charlotte raises hers. We bow, and our fight begins. Our fight drags on for a long, long time. Charlotte stays more on the defense, casting very powerful shielding spells. I shoot curses at her, getting more and more tired, but eventually I send her flying back with a particularly well-done _confundus_ and while she's distracted I hit her directly in the chest with a powerful freezing spell.

"Alright," Professor Potter says, "Charlotte, that was some nice work, but you are done. Let's hope your second might avenge you. Velma, you're doing brilliantly."

Ames and I raise our wands and bow again. Before I have a chance to even think about casting a spell, Ames hisses something under his breath and points his wand down. The room suddenly drops in temperature, and I feel my feet fly out from underneath me. I lie on my back, groaning and confused about what has happened, but when I lay my hands down on the table, I realize Ames has turned the tops of the tables to ice.

"Brilliant!" Professor Potter exclaims. I hear the laughter of my classmates as I get up from my butt. That really hurt. Professor Potter continues, "Come on, Velma! Now's not the time to give up!"

I growl a little to myself. Waving my wand in the air, I cast a fire spell in the form of a dragon. I try to plant my feet, but the ice makes me lose my balance. I slip forward, and when I do, I feel myself lose control of the dragon. Panic rises in me as I watch it fly high up into the air and let out a loud roar. I can feel the heat of it and watch as the ice slowly melts.

"Shit…" I mutter.

Professor Potter leaps up onto the table and shouts a loud charm that I can't quite hear from under another roar of the dragon. The tail of the dragon fades a little, but it continues to fly. Its back brushes against the roof, and the smell of smoke begins to form. From behind me, Lorelei tries an incantation of her own, but her voice is lost under the dragon's roars.

Too embarrassed to think, I can't think of any spells to cast myself. My classmates all scramble about. The ones trying to cast spells at the dragon are pushed down by the ones trying to run away, and the ones who are trying to run away are being slowed by the ones casting the spells. I raise my wand and try another spell; part of the dragon's mouth looks like it is cooled for a second, but the dragon roars, recreating it again.

Suddenly, I realize the dragon slowly fading away. I glance about and notice Ames, his wand pointed up at the dragon, and his lips ever so slightly opening and closing. In the frenzy of my classmates, neither Professor Potter nor anyone else sees him doing this. I call out to Professor Potter, who stops trying to calm my classmates in time to look up and see the last of the dragon dissolve. Ames lowers his wand and almost has the faintest remnant of a smile on his face. I stare at him, confused about whether I currently hold him in admiration, jealousy, or awe. Maybe all three.

"H-How," I hear my voice pipe up in an octave higher than it usually is. "How did you do that?"

Ames's head snaps over to me, almost surprised to see that I was watching him. I look into his eyes and see how tired he is. Whatever he's done, it must take a hell of a lot of power. He quickly regains his typical stoic expression. He shrugs, "Just a thing I do."

Jealousy. It's jealousy that I hold him in.

"Well then…" Professor Potter huffs as he readjusts his glasses. "That was quite eventful enough, so let's just call this match a draw. Five points to both Gryffindor and Slytherin. Now, onto our next dueling pair."

Potter continues talking as Lorelei, Charlotte, Ames, and I all step off the row of desks. As I take a seat next to Winona, I watch as Walt, with Kane as a second, face off against Renata and Dwight, another Slytherin boy.

Winona tugs at my arm. "How did you make your dragon so powerful?" she asks. I don't look at her, but shrug. I'm not entirely certain myself. All I know is that I was a little too unfocused when I cast it. The real question, in my opinion at least, is how did Ames make something powerful enough to stop it? I look through the ongoing battle on the tables to try and see Ames. He sits on the edge of the row, away from everyone else, with his head in his hands and breathing heavily.

Maybe I hold him in suspicion as well.

My attention is taken by a loud thud and crack from nearby. I follow the noise, and see Renata having been knocked off the desks and landed on the floor. Professor Potter's voice booms throughout the room, filled with excitement, "Brilliant job, you two! Renata, you're out!"

"That's not fair!" Renata shouts. "Kane shouldn't have interfered."

Professor Potter runs a hand through his already messy hair and smirks, "I don't recall saying that your seconds weren't allowed to fight with you."

"But that's _not_ fair!" Renata repeats.

He shrugs at her, still with half a smile on his face. "I'm sure you'll learn, as I have, that lots times, _life_ is not fair."

I smile in admiration and lean over to whisper to Winona, "He really is as bold as people say he is." When Winona offers no response, I look over to her and see the way her eyes are glossed over with a tiny smile on her face. Her focus is locked in on Walt.

Walt, having won the first half, is talking to Kane to prep for the second. His gelled pompadour-ish hair is as well kempt as ever, and his steely brown eyes are dark with focus. With his jaw set, he rolls up the sleeves to his uniform's white button up. He glances about, and when he looks to Winona and me, he drops his glare and grins at us; Winona blushes and looks down at her hands. I smile to myself, in spite of my frustration with Ames, to be happy for Winona.

The fight continues and soon Kane and Walt win with ease. Walt wins with grace, nearly indifference, actually, but Kane wins with boastful pride. Unsurprisingly, the Slytherins are less than pleased with Kane, but before they can do anything, Professor Potter is up again speaking.

"Right, thank you, Kane," Professor Potter says, ushering Kane off the makeshift catwalk. Walt grabs him by the collar and pulls him back to his seat. "Five more points to Gryffindor. Both houses, send up another dueler and their second."

Class continues on like this for the entire period, which is pretty interesting. By the end of class, Slytherin has earned ten more points than Gryffindor. When Professor Potter announces this, a low grumble breaks out in the room, but it only takes a few moments for this to cause both of houses to be at each other's throats. We stand on opposing sides of the catwalk, shouting, accusing, blaming, threatening, taunting each other.

"I saw Ellis using charms on Sharon and Ridley during their duel."

"That's a bloody lie!"

"The Slytherins are lousy cheaters!"

A bright pale colored spell flies across the room and hits a Slytherin in the face.

"In a real fight, I bet Holt would use the Cruciatus curse on anyone."

"Students! Everyone, please, calm down!"

"How dare you say that about me! You don't even know me!"

"Keep talking and I'll hex you right where you're standing."

"Please, you Gryffindors lost because you're all too busy kissing your own asses."

I hear a shout and a violet colored stream of light narrowly misses me and hits Oka in the shoulder.

"All of you and your families are vile Death Eaters!"

"Shut your dirty Mudblood mouth!"

" _Silencio_!" Professor Potter shouts over our arguing. Everyone in the room is literally silenced, allowing Professor Potter to speak in a low, angry growl. "All of you, that was frankly embarrassing to watch. I'd never thought a house feud would escalate to something like _this._ McGonagall had forewarned me of the ongoing tension toward the Slytherins, especially the Gryffindors. I'd hope to say things have changed from four years ago, but it seems that things have only gotten far, far worse." Professor Potter rubs his jaw and fiddles with his hands, frustrated. "I've made a decision, and if anyone decides to speak out against it, I'll take away all the points that their house has earned today.

"My teaching style if very hands on," Professor Potter explains as he begins pacing the room, "so actually dueling and practicing spells with one another will become a common practice, which means partners will be needed. Each Gryffindor is to be paired up with a Slytherin. We'll use today's dueling groups as a basis. Primary Gryffindors pair up with the primary Slytherins, and the same for the seconds."

Kane and I glance at each other and frown; earlier, we agreed to work together on any Defense Against the Dark Arts related since I had called dibs on working with Winona for potions. This was fair because he got Walt for transfiguration.

Professor Potter continues, "This rivalry has to end. If it doesn't, everything that happened against Voldemort," the mention of his name causes unease, "and all the lives lost at the Battle of Hogwarts," I curl and uncurl my toes in my shoes, "will have no meaning. Do you all understand me?" We all remain in an uncomfortable silence. "I said, do you all- oh. _Finite_." A glum murmur of 'we understand' and 'yes, Professor Potter' resounds throughout our class.

Professor Potter nods and sends us all off to our common rooms.

The Slytherins all walk off to their common room. I share a somewhat amicable glance with Charlotte before she leaves. My class and I all wait until the Slytherins have rounded the corner before leaving ourselves.

v

"This is utter bullshit!" Kane roars as he stomps around the common room. He, of course, is as dramatic as ever in his reaction to the decision. "I don't believe that Harry Potter, Harry flipping Potter, The Boy Who Lived, of all people would make a decision this idiotic."

"Oh, give it a rest, Kane," I groan at him. When he continues, I sigh and watch as Kane storms about the room, yelling at whoever he can. Most of the people in my year are lounging about in our common room, majority some level of perturbed. I sit in a large cushiony chair near a window with Sharon perched on my armrest and Walt resting his elbows against the top of the chair.

"I've got stuck with Dwight! _Dwight_! Out of all the people," Kane hollers as he grabs at his spiked black hair.

Ellis sighs and meanders over to console Kane, "Could be worse, mate. You _could_ be Walt right now."

Walt, who has Renata as a partner, sighs heavily. "We shouldn't question Professor Potter's decisions, guys," he offers weakly, but I note that he didn't argue his sorry situation either.

I tilt my head up to address Walt. "I don't envy the attention Renata'll be giving you." Walt sighs and shrugs. Girls like to flirt with Walt, and Renata, despite dating Ames, _loves_ to flirt.

"And you're not Winona either, Kane," Ellis continues, "So hush up a little. It could be worse."

Winona, who left to do some extra research in the potions room, ended up with Holt for a partner. I try to imagine Holt, one of the rudest, most arrogant people I've ever met, working with Winona.

There was one nasty incident our fifth year involving Holt and Kane. During a Quidditch match, Kane hit Holt so hard with a bludger that it knocked Holt off of his broom. Holt had been so angry about it that he took a few guys to corner Kane in the boys' bathroom; Dwight was one of them.

That night Winona and I had stayed with Kane in his dorm. He was embarrassed, but unlike me, he wanted to rant, not internalize. The other boys who roomed with Kane left to go confront the Slytherins, and the rule allowing girls into the boys' dorms let us have privacy.

Kane was lying down on his bed. I sat by his feet, and Winona stood by his head. She frowned down at him, "How's the arm?"

He had shrugged and opened and closed his hand. Madame Pomfrey had to fix the break in his arm. Kane had ground his teeth, "It feels not bad… Man, you guys, I hate them. I hate them so much. They tried to get me to lick the toilets clean, do you know how humiliating that was?"

"Did you?" I had asked.

"No…" he grumbled. He had a bad looking bruise under his eye, but both Winona and I pretended to not notice. "But then they tried to make me call myself an ugly Mudblood."

"Did you do that?" I pressed. Winona gave me a look trying to shut me up.

Kane shook his head, "Never. No way." He let out an angry sigh, "This was supposed to be my day, you know? First Quidditch match, and we won. I was… I was so happy, but then," he gestures to his bruises, " _this_ happens. They managed to ruin this memory for me. The entire memory. I hate them. I hate them all so much."

I try to shake the memory away, of Kane's reddened face with tear streaks marking it. I try to shake it away, but I can't help but wonder if Ames was part of that group of Slytherin boys that day.

"It's not like Holt is going to try anything so long as Walt is within a hundred yard radius," Kane jokes. We all turn to Walt, who looks away from us to readjust the cuffs of his button up shirt. He remains with hard eyes and brooding presence, but he lets the sweetest smile on his face. "Isn't that right, Walt?" Kane continues teasingly.

"Shut up, guys," Walt laughs as he moves to slap Kane upside the head. This incites a round of hooting among us.

Lorelei, unhappy, attempts to shift the conversation of Walt and Winona (or Walona or WinWal as I prefer to call it) over to her. She groans, "Whatever about Winona working with Holt. I have to work with Ames Fremont."

"Ames can be freaky," Oka agrees. "I heard some Slytherins were freaked out by him. They say he creeps off sometimes to practice his own kind of magic."

I frown, "What do you mean his own kind of magic? Do you mean like, dark magic?" Is that how he stopped that dragon? Does Ames experiment in the dark arts?

Oka shrugs, "I don't know it's just what I heard."

"Probably dark magic…" Kane mutters. "Ames is the definition of untrustworthy. Slytherins are the worst. I hope they all find Dementors to suck what little souls they have left out of them."

With that, Sharon suddenly stands up from her spot next to me and hurries to our dorm. For a moment, I'm thrown by her actions, but then remember that Darcie is a Slytherin now. My friends continue complaining, but I stand to follow Sharon.

I walk into our dorm, which is shared by Winona, Sharon, Oka, Lorelei, and myself. Sharon sits on her bed, facing away from me. I know she hears me, but she refuses to look at me. Slowly, I make my way over and sit next to her on the bed. Sharon is usually so outspoken whenever something bothers her; it's so odd seeing her like this.

"You heard them," she says softly to me.

"They don't mean Darcie," I offer sincerely.

"They meant _all_ Slytherins," she says in a shaky voice. "Darcie is a Slytherin." She lets out a wobbly sob and I rub her back gently. She whispers, "I just… I just don't know how to feel or what to do. Last year if I had heard people saying stuff like this I would've agreed, you know? But Darcie is… _one of them_ and she's my sister and I love her, but… this just wasn't supposed to happen." She shakes her head in confusion. "I don't know, Velma… Is this how it'll always be? Are we always supposed to hate each other? Has it already been predetermined?"

My heart wants to tell her that people are capable of change and that maybe Darcie can change or maybe the Slytherins can change or maybe _we_ can change.

My head knows it would be cruel to fill her with false hope.

So I don't say anything.


	6. Velma: Meant to be Hero

**Chapter Six** **–** **Velma: Meant to be Hero**

A month had gone by with Professor Potter's new system. Though he wisely avoided partner work in the beginning, whenever we did do something in partners, some dramatics were bound to happen.

There were a few nasty instances involving Kane and Dwight.

During a review session we were told do run basic attacks with our partners, which they were supposed to counter. Kane had been shooting hexes at Dwight and, according to Kane, Dwight had been to slow in his defensive spells and was hit by one of Kane's curses. Being petty, Dwight hit Kane back with hex of his own. Kane, who had apparently forgotten any pretense of magic in the duel, reverted back to his muggle roots and used his fists. He tossed his wand to the side, which Winona caught. Kane has a bad habit of throwing his wand. It's a wonder he hasn't needed a second wand yet.

Dwight, being a pure blood, was so thrown by this lack of magic attack, he stood there stunned for just long enough for Kane to crash into him. Kane knocked away Dwight's wand and landed a few good hits on Dwight's face before Walt pulled Kane away from him.

"You fight like a muggle," Dwight sneered as he held a hand under his bloody nose.

"Yeah? You fight like a parentless prat!" Kane had shouted as he struggled against Walt. "I hope your mum and dad are having a nice time in Azkaban! I've heard the Dementors treat them well!"

"You're a right piece of shit, Kane!" Dwight had shouted. "If you even think about touching me again, I'll kill you!"

There had also been awkward instances with Renata and Walt.

As expected, Renata was an absolute flirting machine whenever it came time to work in partners. It also didn't help that two weeks into the school year, Ames and Renata broke up. The official reasons of their split remain unknown, but I suspect Walt played some sort of factor. Renata really was relentless when it came to Walt. Feeding him pickup lines, laughing at his dumb jokes, touching him on his arm; there was really no stopping that girl.

Anytime we would leave Defense Against the Dark Arts Winona was set on edge after watching Renata work with Walt while she worked with Holt. No one likes it when Winona is on edge. Thankfully, it takes a lot to stress her out, but when she is stressed, she'll snap at anyone.

"Renata'd never flirt with Walt like that if he wasn't a pure-blood," Winona seethed in the common room one day.

"I don't think the Santo family is pure-blood," Leigh said before I could, like a good best friend, agree with her. My little brother continues, despite the glare Winona gives him. "Carlos is my year. I think their mum is a half-blood."

"Well," Winona sneered as she stood up and slammed her potions book shut. "I'm sorry I'm not all caught up on Renata's genealogy, Leigh!" She swished her wand, and her broom came flying over to her, nearly hitting Leigh right in the face. "I'm going down to the Quidditch pitch early."

"Wait!" Leigh exclaimed as he scrambled to his feet. "You said you'd help train me today! Winona, I want to get on the main team this year." Leigh is the seeker on the lowerclassmen team and desperately wants to play on the main team. Winona is a chaser and, in my opinion, takes Quidditch far too seriously. She slammed the fat-lady's painting behind her as she left. Leigh huffed and turned to look at me with a hopeful expression.

I shook my head at him, "There's a reason I took all my apparition classes so seriously."

Neither of us pointed out that Marissa would've been perfect to help him.

Half an hour later, Winona came back to the common room. Back to her natural calm state, she apologized to Leigh and took him down the pitch.

But of course, no one could beat the amount of times Lorelei and Ames would fight.

Any day with partners those two found something to disagree on. Their personalities clashed terribly. Lorelei had her outspoken tendencies and Ames had his reserved nature. Some days I think Lorelei would be over emotional to get a response out of Ames, and I think Ames would remain stoic to annoy Lorelei.

"You're doing it all wrong!" Lorelei had shrieked one day as we practiced our stuns. "You swish your wand too early. That's why I'm able to get out of the stun so fast."

Ames had shrugged indifferently at her, but spoke through gritted teeth. "It holds long enough."

"Those seconds could be between life and death, Fremont," Lorelei argued. "I should know. Most everyone in my family is an Auror."

By this time in this particular argument, most people had shifted focus over to them. It was quite difficult to not listen to Lorelei with her shrill tone. To be fair, not even I could deny Lorelei's talent, but the fact that she had to bring up her mother, father, sister, aunt, uncle, cousin dynasty of Aurors was insufferable. Charlotte and I had both taken a break from stuns to watch Ames's reaction.

Ames took in a deep breath and glared at Lorelei. "Let's run the spell again," he muttered. Lorelei glared back at him, but Ames held his poker face like a champ.

Charlotte and I got along surprisingly well compared to the rest of my class. We avoided arguments by avoiding any talking all together. Our system worked well and the extent of our daily conversation was usually something along the lines of this:

"Hey," I would say once Professor Potter sent us into partners.

"Hi," she would say as she tied her long black hair into a ponytail.

"Defense or offense?" I would ask as I got into position.

"Offense," she would answer.

We would complete the assignment without any other verbal interaction.

"Good work," she would say to me as she walked away.

"Same to you," I would answer.

Professor Potter shockingly remained steadfast in his decisions and refused to let them switch partners. No one was happy with this development, or rather, _lack_ of development. And for some reason everyone decided it was _my_ job to tell Professor Potter to start changing things.

Winona and I were sitting in the library. I was lazily flipping through _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ while Winona scribbled notes about the Felix Felicis potion in her notebook; Winona has been planning to start a brew of it and is determined to finish it by the time we graduate.

We were both content until Kane marched over and slammed his books on the desk.

"Kane!" Winona gasped. "You nearly scared me to death! Go away, I'm trying to work."

He ignored Winona and turned to me. " _You_ ," he said to me.

I squinted my eyes at him, "What do you want?"

"You," Kane repeated, "need to tell Potter to switch partners."

I let out something that was between a laugh and a scoff, but before I could tell Kane that he was crazy, Winona looked up from her book and pointed her quill at me. "That's true," she confirmed.

"Why me?" I asked.

"Top student," Kane argued as he crossed his arms. "Number one Gryffindor? Who else would do it?"

"Maybe our Head Girl?" I offered, unamused. I gave Winona a pointed look, but she was already back to scribbling notes down.

"Hah," Winona scoffed, not even looking up at me. "No way that'd work. Don't be thick, Velma. You're our best bet."

I had frowned and thought about Professor Potter's shy smile and eager eyes. I thought about how much I respect everything he stands for, and I thought about what he said that first day in class: _all the lives lost at the battle of Hogwarts will have no meaning._ I thought about how Marissa would've made peace years ago, but I also thought about everyone's complaints. Kane leaving class with cuts on his torso from Dwight's hexes; Winona losing her temper on people in the common room.

"You gonna do it?" Kane asked me, his smile gone and his eyes serious.

I had pressed my lips together. "Let me think about it," I muttered as I scrambled out of the library.

A different day I was with Choo-Choo, getting ready to send a letter to my dad. I had written him a note with all the usual sentiments: I was well, Leigh was well, grades are good, food is good, hope you're doing well, try and get out of the house, all my love. Choo-Choo had just flown off my arm when someone had bear-hugged me from behind. I was so startled I nearly fell out the window. I spun around, wand drawn, only to see Oka staring back at me sheepishly.

"Sorry," she said awkwardly. "Leigh told me you were up here. I was just so excited when I heard; I needed to thank you as soon as I could."

"Heard what?" I asked, confused.

Oka smiled at me like I was a bit slow. Please, Oka thinking _I'm_ the slow one. "Everyone's been talking about it!" she answered. My eyebrows furrowed. "You and Winona are going to trick Potter into drinking a potion to get him to switch partners!"

My eyes nearly bulged out of my head and for a brief moment I was mortified that anyone would think I would treat The Boy Who Lived, my personal hero, with anything less than the utmost respect. "No, no, no," I said hurriedly. "Winona's got nothing to do with it! People've been just asking me."

"Really?" Oka said with awe in her voice. "You're making the potion yourself? Why on earth wouldn't you use Winona to make it?"

"There's no potion."

"How are you going to do it then?"

"I… I don't know. I mean, I'm not!"

I pushed past her and left as fast as I could. I looked up to the sky and saw Choo-Choo nearly crash head-first into a tree and in that instance felt an odd connection to my owl.

Even Leigh, my only brother, my own flesh and blood had tried to convince me. I sat curled in a plushy chair while he sprawled out in front of me on his stomach. I was trying to think about a charm while he read _The Monster Book of Monsters_. The fireplace in front of us crackled and it felt really peaceful. Really normal.

Until my shit little brother ruined it.

"Everyone's been talking about you," he said without looking at me. I closed my eyes and sighed, but did not respond. Leigh continued, "Everyone wants you to talk to Potter." He turned to look at me, and I sent a death glare down at him. Still no response from me. He coughed, "Vel, I've been asked… to ask you, if… well, you know. If you'd talk to him. Other people've tried going to him, but nothing's worked, and I think they think you'd actually be able to do it."

"Leigh," I seethed. "You have ten words to drop this topic."

"I'm just saying," Leigh argued as he sat up. "If you _tried_ it then people would stop-"

At his eleventh word, I used my foot to close _The Monster Book of Monsters_ and jumped on the ground next to it. The book's eyes snapped open and started its practically motorized teeth. I curled back up in my seat and listened to Leigh chase his book around.

I would like to say that I'll be able to remain steadfast in my stubbornness, but I just can't take it for much longer.

v

"Fine!" I hiss to Walt during Herbology, after getting an earful of him recounting Renata's attempt at flirtation and contemplating everyone's complaints carefully. "Fine, fine, fine! I'll do it!"

"Really?" Walt exclaims quietly as he prods the odd spider-plant with his quill. "Honestly, Vel, everyone is going to be thrilled! You have to do this. You _have_ to do this."

"Change the subject, Stay."

"Fair enough."

"Winonaa!" someone from the other side of the room shrieks. Walt and I turn to see Sharon with her hair caught in the spider-plant's web. Winona hurries over and starts detangling Sharon's hair out of it.

Walt and I among many others laugh at the two good-naturedly, but as we do I realize something odd. "Walt," I begin. "Why aren't you and Win partners for anything?"

Walt shrugs, "We talked about it last year and we decided against it."

"Why?"

He sighs and rocks his quill back and forth between his fingers. "Well," he says hesitantly. "Hypothetically… _Hypothetically_ , Vel. This is just a scenario."

"Right, of course," I nod condescendingly. The spider-plant releases an odd web from its body. I frown at it and poke at it with the end of my wand.

"Well, if Winona and I were in a maybe, kind of, almost, hypothetical relationship," he whispers to me. He lets out another sigh, "and in this completely fictional scenario we broke up, then we both thought that it would be hard for us to work together or continue to be friends."

"That's stupid," I snort, trying and failing to imagine a jilted version of Walt acting hostile towards an angry Winona. "Why would you think that you two would end up like that?"

"Exhibit A," he says gesturing across the table. I look up and see Calix, but luckily he's too focused on his plant. I avert my eyes so he doesn't notice I'm watching him. "If you recall, there was once upon a time when Velix reigned and you guys wouldn't stop making out in the halls. Now where are they? Avoiding eye contact in Herbology."

"You're hilarious, Walt," I scoff, trying, but failing to sound casual. I look up at Calix again; I really miss him. It feels so weird to not have spoken to him in so long. He got a haircut. I don't think it looks as good as his other one, but it's nice. I wonder if he still uses the same shampoo.

"Still there, Velma?" Walt asks.

"Huh?" I mutter, coming out of my Calix-daze. "Sorry. Wait, anyway you and Winona-"

"Change subject."

"But-"

"Change subject, Caplan."

"Fine…"

v

I think part of me was honored or excited when everyone started asking me to talk to Potter. Isn't it Gryffindor nature to want to be the hero? You need to help us, Velma. Only you can do this! Thank you so much for doing this! They all knew exactly what to say to me. Playing hero seemed like a good idea in theory, but as I stand outside Professor Potter's office it seems less of a good idea.

Inhale. Exhale.

"Professor?" I say quietly as I knock on Potter's door.

"Come in," he calls back to me. I take a deep breath and walk into his office.

When I enter, it's surprisingly messier than I'd expected it to be. Loose papers are scattered around the room and various stacks of books are lined up against the edges. Near the entrance is surprisingly large stack of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products. Different trinkets lie on his desk. A remembrall, a golden snitch, a pocket watch, a globe. A small Gryffindor banner is tacked up on the wall behind his desk. Near the banner is a photograph of a younger version of himself with Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Next to it is another photo, torn on one side, but shows three boys in Gryffindor robes; one seems to be Harry, but I don't recognize the other boys, one with neatly kempt light brown hair and another with long dark hair. Finally one of a redheaded girl I recognize to be Ginny Weasley, and a different photo of him and Ginny. That picture moves, and shows the two dancing somewhere.

"Over here," he says. I follow his voice to see him by an open window with a black owl on his arm. The owl glances at me, and I am thrown by its large red eyes. Potter sends the owl off into the sky holding a letter.

I walk over to him, admittedly a bit shy. "I like your owl," I say.

"Thanks," he responds. "Her name is Rubeus, but I just call her Ruby."

Unable to bring myself to talk about class, I do what I can to stall. "Are you still with Ginny Weasley? I um… I remember seeing the two of you together, and I saw the photos. The one of her and the other of you two dancing?"

He smiles warmly at me, but I can tell he's picked up on my anxiousness. "Yes, I'm still together with Ginny, but the one of the two dancing is actually a picture of my parents," he explains. He takes a seat down at his desk. "Is there something you wanted, Velma?"

"Yeah," I begin. "It's just about class and, well, the partners." Potter nods unsurprised. I continue, "A lot of my friends and I've been talking, and, well, we feel like working with them is just preventing us from learning to our full capacities. We're all a bit uncomfortable, and we were hoping you'd reconsider."

"You're the second person today to ask me for a partner change, Velma," he says to me as he lets out a sad chuckle. "What happened? You and Charlotte were my prized pair. I thought the two of you were getting on so well."

"Charlotte and I are fine," I explain quickly, feeling guilty from Professor Potter's defeated expression. "But... Other people, like Kane and Lorelei, they want to switch."

"Who exactly wants a switch?"

"Truthfully?" I ask him. He gives me a half smile and nods. "Nearly everyone."

"I've said it to your classmates, I'll say it to you, Velma," Potter sighs. "No. I'm sticking with my decision. You all need to learn how to cooperate. You'll be seeing these people for the rest of your life."

I nod at him, understanding and partially agreeing with him. "Thank you for listening to me, sir," I concede as I turn away from him. Something nags at my brain. "Did…" I say before really considering if I should. I face him again. "Did you mean what you said? About Slytherins and Gryffindors?"

Professor Potter looks at me curiously, but with a small smile. "I usually mean what I say, that's why I say it, but let me know what I said specifically, just to make sure I really did mean it."

"Right…" I laugh awkwardly. "My fault. I should've been more specific. It's just…" I take a deep breath, but can't stop myself from babbling. "When you first decided to pair the Gryffindors up with Slytherins you said something... something along the lines of, if we don't learn to cooperate all that happened with You-Know-Who and- and everything that happened at the Battle of Hogwarts would be meaningless. So… Do you really think that? Do you really think all the people who died would've died for nothing?"

He looks at me for a long time. We stand there staring at each other to the point where I'm uncomfortable. I hate talking about how I feel in the first place, so why does he have to look at me like that?

"Oh…" he breathes. He readjusts his glasses. "Velma, your last name is Caplan isn't it?" I look away from him and nod quickly. He swallows, "Marissa is your sister."

"She _was_ ," I correct.

"I didn't realize… I'm so sorry. It's been so long since I thought about… And I've been learning so many names, it must've just went over my head." He tilts his head at me. "You look a lot like her."

"Leigh does too."

"I realized with Leigh," he nods. "God, I'm sorry, Velma. I should've seen it. I remember your sister. A Hufflepuff, part of the DA, never sided against me, right. Seeker after Cedric; we competed a lot. She liked Herbology."

I press my lips together and nod. Hearing him talk about her, while a nice sentiment, feels like a punch in the gut. "She wanted to be a Healer at St. Mungo's."

"Right."

"Yeah…"

After a moment, he takes in another deep breath. "I did mean what I said, Velma. The Death Eater's main belief was focused around the idea that a certain group of people was above another. That's what both houses are doing today. I absolutely refuse to let something like that escalate again. I'm sorry, Velma-"

"No, don't be sorry," I interrupt quickly. "I… I understand why you're doing what you're doing, and you're right to do it." I turn to leave.

Professor Potter sighs deeply. "Velma," he calls to me. I turn back around to him. "I'll think about some of your classmates. Even I'm getting tired of some of those arguments."

"Thank you for considering, sir," I say as I begin to walk away, but in the doorway, I pause. I turn back to him. "You don't have to be sorry for not realizing Marissa was my sister," I say quickly, thinking of her kind eyes and sweet smile. "I'm not like her."


	7. The Boggart

**Chapter Seven** **–** **The Boggart**

"There's going to be a few partner changes today," Professor Potter announces after giving the morning's usual rundowns.

Both sides erupt in a clamor of excitement once Potter says this. Kane nearly jumps on my back and Winona envelopes me in a tight hug. "I didn't doubt you for a second, Vellie!" Kane says to me, completely ecstatic. "I knew you'd be able to come through for us!"

"Bullshit," I respond.

"You caught me," Kane shrugs, "but I almost never doubted that you getting us out of this mess might almost be a slight possibility."

"It's a wonder you're not a Hufflepuff, Kane," Winona muses. "With that loyalty? The Sorting Hat clearly made an error."

"Everyone, settle down!" Potter calls at us, clearly impatient. "I said, settle! Right, anyway, today for most of you will be very easy. We will be reviewing how to defend yourself against a boggart." I feel my feet start to sweat while some members of my class smile to themselves; most people could do this spell easily and this lesson probably wouldn't require much partner interaction. "Now," Professor Potter continues, "who can tell me the counter spell for a boggart?"

" _Riddikulus_ ," Ellis answers.

"Right, five points to Gryffindor. When you see the boggart, take the moment to compose yourself, visualize something to create laughter, and then, _riddikulus_." He waves his wand and a small box flies over to him. Potter tosses it down next to him. "Form two lines leading up to the box. Have your partners next to you in the other line. Slytherins will attempt the counter spell first with Gryffindors acting as seconds. I will only interfere if absolutely necessary."

"Sir," Dwight says. "Partner changes?" He shoots Kane a nasty glare, which Kane returns.

"Ah, right," Professor Potter says. "Ames and Charlotte, switch partners. Everyone else is staying the same." There is a tense silence and I feel at least twenty pairs of eyes on me. "What are you all doing? Get in your lines!"

My partner is Ames? Kane looks at me with a frank expression. "Well, I suppose I was a bit too loyal to you, Velma. You're right," he address Winona before falling into line, "I'm too Hufflepuff for my own good."

"Oh, shut it, Kane," Winona warns. She gives me a soft smile of encouragement before taking her place in line next to Holt.

Why am I being partnered up with Ames? I have to say that It'll be easier in class from now on, not hearing Lorelei arguing with Ames, but why me? I take the spot at the back of the line, not eager to face the boggart. Coincidentally, Lorelei is in front of me. Charlotte and I make brief eye contact, and in that moment we look at each other, I apologize for her situation. She acknowledges my act of acquaintance-ness with a curt nod. Silently, Ames takes his spot next to me.

As the boggart is released on Renata and Walt, I listen in on Lorelei's conversation with Charlotte. "What do you think happens to the boggart if it comes to a person who isn't afraid of anything?" Lorelei asks in her too loud, high pitched voice.

"I don't know," Charlotte answers.

"Because the last time I saw a boggart it turned into these horrid beetles," Lorelei says. I keep listening, but see that a huge werewolf has appeared for Renata. Lorelei continues, "But a muggle friend of mine got some beetles for a science experiment over the summer, and I saw them all time, so now I'm not frightened in the least."

"I think everyone is afraid of something."

"Well, _hypothetically_ speaking then."

"I don't know, Lorelei."

"Maybe then I'll be the first person ever to be really truly fearless. Wouldn't that be something? Then I'd be the person to show the world a boggart's true form!" Lorelei continues to ramble on.

"She doesn't stop talking does she?"

He says it so quietly I almost miss it. I look up at Ames slowly; he might be smiling, but I can't be sure. I keep an eye on him suspiciously. "I've dormed with her since we were First Years," I respond hesitantly. "You don't know the half of it." Ames, who still I can't tell if he's smiling, nods a little.

Class continues and I take note of some of the fears the Slytherins have. One person sees a snake, which I think is a little ironic for a Slytherin to see. Another sees their parents crying over her own grave. One boy's boggart makes him think he's on a high ledge, and Dwight sees the opposite, and thinks he is buried alive. Charlotte sees many small grey and black rats. She, with ease, she switches the rats into chinchillas.

"Charlotte, that was good," Potter says to her. Potter always uses our names when he talks to us. Personally, I appreciate it. Our last teacher didn't really talk to us like individuals. Before that there was Carrow, and Carrow was, you know, _Carrow_. Ames steps up to the box, and stares at it, content. Potter continues, "Ames, you ready?" Potter asks.

Ames gives him a curt nod and runs his fingers through his hair. "Seems like I am," he says nonchalantly. I roll my eyes at him. Potter nods back at Ames and opens the box.

In front of Ames and me appears a large black gravestone that reads: HERE LIES AMES TITUS FREMONT. Ames's breathing goes shallow for a moment, but he waves his wand and says, " _Riddikulus_." The letters swirl around on the gravestone until they are rearranged to read EASTER FISHERMEN MOTEL SUIT. I don't understand how that could make anyone laugh, but then the letters float off the grave in a flourish of different colors, followed by different silly too high or too low voices singing, "EASTER! FISHERMEN! MOTEL! SUIT!" The corner of Ames's mouth turns up slightly and he lets out a breathy laugh.

"Nice job, Ames," Professor Potter says as he signals us to go to the back of the line. "Alright! Good work, Slytherins! I didn't have to interfere once, so 10 points to Slytherin. Gryffindors, let's see how well you all do."

One by one, the Gryffindors ahead of me step up to the boggart's box. Walt is shown flames all around him. Winona sees a large crowd laughing at her. Sharon sees a dark magical creature that I don't quite recognize killing her little sister. I was so bad at Care for Magical Creatures; Sharon on the other hand is kind of amazing when it comes to dealing with animals. Kane, oddly, is shown this thing filled with tiny holes. While the holes make me uncomfortable as well, I'm not as freaked out by them as Kane is.

Kane finishes his boggart by filling the holes with some kind of dessert. I try to make eye contact with him as he walks by, but he only stares at the ground, red faced. "Hey," I call out to Kane. "Long, what's with the holes?"

Kane glares at me and takes a few steps toward me, looking agitated. "It's a real thing. It's called trypophobia. I hate it. Don't make fun of me, Vel." He stomps down to the back of the line.

"Why'd you call him long?" Ames asks.

His voice surprises me. "Um…" I hesitate. "Kane's last name is Long?"

"Oh," Ames answers awkwardly. "I thought you guys were… Um. Never mind. But isn't Kane Chinese?"

"He's half," I respond. I'm not sure which annoys me more: the fact that Ames didn't know Kane's last name after six years or how he's pretending to care about him at all. I glance at Ames from the corner of my eye. He looks at me like he expects me to continue on the conversation. After a pointed glare, he looks away.

More and more of my classmates finish the assignments with ease. They can do it, so can I. I'll be able to do this. Just prep as Lorelei does hers. Regrettably instead of being one-hundred percent focused, part of me wonders if Lorelei will actually do what she wants. Even I have to admit I'm curious. Maybe a boggart would just cease to exist if it met someone who had no fears. That's what I would bet on, but for Lorelei, who I know is definitely not fearless, I bet would have a boggart of her with a bad haircut. It wouldn't surprise me if she were that shallow.

The boggart flies out at her and I lose my bet.

We all stand there in confusion as the boggart takes on the form of Walt.

"W-What?" Lorelei stutters, her cheeks turning as red as her hair. "I, um, I-I think it's made a mistake." She turns around and glances at Walt, who is right behind me. I turn my head to look at him; though he's kept his composure well, his eyebrows stay furrowed and a bit of color rises up from his neck.

Lorelei continues to stand there, dumbfounded. Step one: regain composure, has been unsuccessful. "Lorelei," the boggart-Walt says with a disapproving tone. "Who do you think you're kidding?"

"I'm… what? I'm not-" she trips over her words. " _Ri-ridd-"_

"You'll never be enough."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about!" Lorelei shouts, her voice beginning to shake.

"I'll never love you," the boggart-Walt says. The voice, while undoubtedly Walt's, speaks in a cold, hateful tone that no one would ever hear Walt use. The room falls silent, and Lorelei stands there paralyzed. "No one will ever love you," it says, "No matter what you do or how hard you try or how much you wish, I will _never_ love you." Lorelei stumbles back a little, her face pale.

Charlotte nudges Lorelei a little forward, giving her a soft nod. I pity Lorelei, not sure how I would turn this comedic myself. I glance over my shoulder again at Walt himself. He looks unfathomably uncomfortable and embarrassed, whether it's for himself or for Lorelei, I'm not sure. I see him look away from Lorelei to say something to Winona, who is a few people behind him, but she evades eye contact with him.

Before the boggart-Walt can say anything else, Charlotte pushes Lorelei out of its direct contact. The boggart, seeing Charlotte, gets confused and attempts to mesh the two's fears; this results in an odd version of Walt with rat teeth and beady eyes. Charlotte grimaces at the sight of the rat, but merely nudges Lorelei forward.

" _Riddikulus_!" she shouts at it. The frightening boggart-rat-Walt suddenly loses its ugly nature and grows large Mickey Mouse ears. The almost cute boggart-Mickey Mouse-Walt lets out Mickey Mouse's high pitched, 'ha-ha!' laugh, and Lorelei lets out a small laugh as well. A few other people in the room chuckle and this is enough to send the boggart flying back into the box.

Lorelei spins around, her face completely red, only to accidentally make eye contact with Walt. Her face manages to turn an even deeper shade of red, and I wonder if the rest of her body is getting the proper blood circulation it needs.

"Prof- Professor…" she sputters. "Can- May I be excused to the bathroom?" Professor Potter nods at her, and she runs out of the room without looking back.

"Um," I start after a few beats of uncomfortable silence. "Is it my turn…?"

"Sorry, yeah!" Professor Potter says, snapping out of his daze. "Velma, go ahead. This should be easy for you."

I smile halfheartedly at him as I take the few steps forward up to the boggart's box. He's right: it _should_ be easy for me. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Composure. Visualize. Spell. Composure. Visualize. Spell. "That time she dropped that cake," I whisper to myself. I rock back and forth on me feet, feeling sweat form between my toes. "That time she dropped that cake," I repeat again. Composure. Visualize. Spell.

Professor Potter releases the boggart from the box, and I watch helplessly as it twists and forms into my greatest fear.

A little bit taller than me. Gray-blue eyes and short dark hair that falls in waves.

"Hey, Vel," the boggart-Marissa says to me.

I feel my stomach twist up into a knot. Composure. Visualize. Spell. Composure. Visualize. Spell. Composure. Visualize. Spell. I take a deep breath, but find myself unable to exhale it. Composure. I blink a few times and exhale. Exhale. Inhale. My fingers go tingly and I feel dizzy for a moment.

"You broke your promise," boggart-Marissa says. I shake my head at her, feeling tears gather up in my eyes. Marissa frowns at me, "You're the reason I'm dead."

Composure. Visualize. Spell. I stare up at her, feeling my lip quiver. From the corner of my eye I see Professor Potter stand up. "That's not true…" I whisper.

"I wouldn't have been out there if it weren't for you," Marissa hisses at me. "You made me go out there. It's your fault."

Professor Potter speaks to me. "Velma-"

"You're the reason Leigh is so messed up."

"Velma, get away from it."

"You're the reason Dad can't leave the house."

"Marissa…"

"You're the reason you can't seem to form any stable relationships."

Ames touches my arm, but I step away from him.

"It should've been you that night. It would've been easier for everyone if it were you."

Professor Potter's voice suddenly registers in my head. "Velma, let me handle this one!" he shouts at me, coming towards me.

I think about house points and all those smug Slytherin faces and Renata having the audacity to even say Marissa's name. " _It's such an easy spell_ ," I think to myself. " _Isn't Gryffindor all about courage? What would I be if I prove myself to be a coward now?_ "

I can't find the words to speak. I can't find the words to tell Professor Potter that I should handle this myself, but I can't.

My head tells me that I shouldn't push myself in a way that'll hurt me like this.

My heart tells me that I shouldn't let myself or my house down.

But neither part of me is reacting.

Professor Potter is suddenly by my side, wand out, ready to face the boggart, but Ames puts a hand on Potter's shoulder.

"Don't," he says calmly to Professor Potter. What is he doing? "It's Velma. She can do this," he says determined. Professor Potter hesitates for a moment, looking between myself and Ames, but steps aside.

"I hope you know," Marissa says to me, "for the rest of your life that I died blaming _you_."

Ames stands at my side. "C'mon, Velma," he whispers into my ear. "It's a boggart. You know it's not true. You can do this. You know how to get rid of it." Composure. Visualize. Spell. "That's not your sister."

I take a deep breath and close my eyes. The boggart is saying something to me, but I don't focus on it. There was a time when I was about ten and Marissa was about thirteen. We were making a cake for Leigh's seventh birthday by ourselves since Dad had been busy that day. We made a funfetti cake with chocolate icing on top. We tried carrying it down to Leigh's room before he woke up to surprise him, but going down the hall, I slipped on the carpet. The cake toppled onto Marissa and covered her in frosting. I couldn't help myself and started laughing, and I thought she was going to be so mad, but she started laughing, and then Leigh rushed out of his room and starting laughing too.

" _Riddikulus_!" I shout at the boggart, waving my wand at it. A cake appears the boggart and lands right on top of the boggart's head. I laugh uncertainly, and something breaks in my chest when I see Marissa laughing too. Professor Potter summons the boggart back into its box, and the image of my sister is taken away from me. I stumble back, out from the front of the classroom.

"Well," Professor Potter says as he takes my spot in the front of the room. "Close call there, but no interference from me. Ten points to Gryffindor was well." The bell in the tower rings. Professor Potter smiles, "Right on time. Have a nice evening, all. I'll see everyone tomorrow."

I stand in place for a moment, listening to my heart still not slowing down. Tears hold in my eyes, and I remain on the verge of crying. Someone pats me on the shoulder. I look to my side and see Professor Potter.

"Velma, I'm sorry," he says gently to me. "I didn't think it'd be something like that. I thought it'd be easier for you. You can stay to chat if you want. You can come talk to me anytime about her, or anything at all-"

"Thank you, sir," I interrupt, finally finding my voice. "But… but I think- I think I'm fine." I walk away from him towards the door.

Both houses clear out of the class. I get caught up in the crowd and begin to stumble along with them. Everyone is talking and laughing, but all in my head I manage to think is composure. Visualize. Spell. Composure. Visualize. Spell. That's not Marissa; that is a boggart. That is a _boggart_. Listen to Ames; my sister would never say that. Ames.

"Velma!" a voice calls out to me. I spin around in just enough time to see Winona and Kane hurrying over to me. They both stare at me with concerned eyes.

"Vel, are you okay?" Kane asks me, concerned.

" _No, what psychopath would be 'okay' after that?_ " I think to myself. I nod at Kane, "I'm fine."

"That's a hard thing to have to see," Winona says gently to me. "I know as your best friend I'm supposed to agree with you, but Kane is right. You should talk to us about this."

"Pass," I scoff as I head toward the staircase.

"Velma…" Winona says to me gently. She puts her hand gently on my arm, but I brush her off me. I shake my head at her. "I just want to be alone," I say somberly. I head up the stairs and my friends stop following me.

Composure, Visualize. Spell. That wasn't Marissa. That wasn't Marissa. That _was not_ Marissa. I make it to the seventh floor and stand in front of the Fat Lady. She smiles at me, "Coming in, dearie?"

I think about Winona and Kane, probably heading up here soon, and of Lorelei, probably in there still embarrassed from class. I think of Leigh, who may or may not notice anything is wrong; I don't know which would be worse. I shake my head at the Fat Lady. "No. No, I'm not," I mutter before awkwardly walking away.

I walk around the hall muttering to myself, which I know is the first sign of insanity. "I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. What would Marissa do? I just need to think. I need to- to- to-" My voice slowly trails off. I blink quickly as I see a door slowly forming out of the wall next to me. My mind slows its pace. "Oh, yeah…" I say to myself in a hushed voice. "Room of Requirement…"

I glance left and right over my shoulders. My head tries to tell me go and talk it out with Leigh; if anyone knows what you're going through, it's Leigh.

My heart tells me in a much louder voice to hide for a little while and think about it myself.

Looking up at the doors, I take a deep breath and step inside. The last time I was in the Room of Requirement must've been my fourth year. The night of the Battle of Hogwarts. The Battle of Hogwarts was the night- Um.

Right.

God, how does everything manage to tie back to that night?

I walk around the large room, hearing my steps echo off the walls. It looks like it's been used since I've last been in here for one reason or another. I do a spin as I walk, just because no one's here to judge me for it.

"I miss my sister," I say. Then again, louder, "I miss my sister!" Echoes resound, like they're confirming that I do indeed miss my sister. I wander about and press my back against the wall. I sink to the floor and pull my knees into my chest. "If I talk to myself here," I say, "at least no one can judge me for it." The silence is calming and a refreshing taste from what I'm used to; here at Hogwarts you're rarely ever alone like this. I settle myself in, ready to have a good cry.

A low rumble suddenly fills the room.

My head snaps back up toward the front of the room, and I see that the door has started to reform itself. A bit panicked, I look around the room for a place to hide. The door begins to creak open. I hurry over behind one of the arches, my loud steps still echoing in the room.

The person steps into the room just as I quiet down. I look around the corner and get a glimpse of neatly swept blonde hair.

Ames. What is it about him? Is it the choices we made that made our lives so intertwined? Or is it destiny who's deciding to pull us together?

"What are you doing here?" I ask him as I step out from my hiding spot.

Standing there in front of me is not Ames. It is in fact a Ravenclaw, Payton. Payton is a girl, a year below me, who _is_ blonde and has a well pulled off pixie cut. She stares at me, more confused than anything else. "Um, hey, Velma," she says. "Sorry, no one's usually in here during this hour."

"No, don't be sorry," I say quickly. "I just… I thought you were someone else." I look around the Room of Requirement and think how nice it would be to have a hideaway, an oasis from my loud and intrusive, but well-meaning friends. "Is there…" I hesitate. "Do you know if there's anyone else in the room after you're done?"

"Um…" Payton says, thinking. "Not sure. Once I ran into Ames Fremont in the hall as I was leaving."

Goddamn it, I knew it. _I knew it_.

"What do people do in here?" I ask. "Like, you and Ames? What do you guys use the Room for?"

Payton sets down her bag and grabs a book out of it. "Don't tell?" she asks back. I shrug. She grins at me, "Animagus stuff. Um, I'm quite sure McGonagall knows what I'm doing, but I think she's been letting me slide, but, um, I don't really know what other people do in here. Like I said, I don't know if Ames really uses the room? But, you know all the rumors people've been saying about him. If he does use the Room of Requirement, he's probably doing something dark."

Oka mentioned even Slytherins being wary of Ames once. "When are you done using the room?" I ask, trying my hardest to sound indifferent.

"Usually I'm only in here for the hour," Payton says.

I nod, thank Payton, and quickly leave the room. I jog back to the common room, feeling determined.

Ames is hiding something, and I'll catch him. I know I will.


	8. Introverted Gryffindors

**Chapter Eight** **\- When a Gryffindor is an Introvert**

As it turns out, stakeouts are incredibly uneventful.

For the fifth day this week, I sit in the Room of Requirement behind that wall with my knees pulled up into my chest as my butt falls asleep. There's been no sign of Ames or anyone else for that matter.

However, despite my initial reaction to all this newfound down time, I've grown to like hanging out in here by myself. The older I've gotten, the more introverted I've become. There's always been this stereotype of the loud, extroverted Gryffindor; admittedly, most of us are (and even I was) shouty and peppy, but I think my personality change makes sense considering the circumstances I've been put in.

I've been heading here straight after Defense Against the Dark Arts, which is my last class of the day. Payton's Animagus work advanced to the point where she needed to work outside in the Forbidden Forrest, giving me hours to myself. Even after all my time in here, I've found nothing out about Ames. Luckily, for the past few days in Defense Against the Dark Arts we've been doing some reading and theoretical research since Potter's been away; thank God, I would have no idea how to interact with Ames if we had to work together.

I stand from my crouched position and shake both of my legs to get the blood rushing back into my feet. Though it makes me seem a bit unhinged, I've also realized I enjoy talking to myself in the Room. It's not really talking like having a conversation. It's more stating a fact out loud; something I could never do in the common room since there's a definite chance someone would hear me.

"This was a dumb idea," I say loudly as I spin around the room haphazardly. "I kinda hate myself and this was a dumb idea." I pause for a moment and listen to my echo. "I kinda hate myself," I repeat softly.

The bell in the tower chimes and I grab my book and go.

v

"Where were you after DADA?" Sharon asks me as we get ready for bed.

"Um," I stall. I flip my head over to brush my hair and to conceal my lack of poker face. "I was down at Hogsmeade today," I answer.

"You were?" Sharon asks me as she pulls the covers around her. "I feel like you haven't been around after classes all week."

"Yeah, it's been a few different things, but today I was just getting some candy from Honeydukes," I continue. "I went down to buy Leigh some chocolate frogs. I wanted to cheer him up since he's been frustrated with-"

"You got Leigh candy?" Sharon asks, sitting up in her bed.

I nod, feeling more and more comfortable with my lie as I tell it. "Yeah. I can be a pretty okay big sister. Also, I felt like it was something Marissa would've done, so you know."

"Leigh collects the cards, right?"

"Right."

"So that's why you bought him the Chocolate Frogs today? From Honeydukes? Today?" Sharon asks. I stare back at her, unsure of how our conversation has turned. Sharon tilts her head at me, "I heard some third years were screwing around and did some kind of charm on the candy today. I thought Honeydukes got shut down for the week."

"Um, yeah!" I exclaim too fast. Mentally, I curse myself out for studying instead of paying attention to whatever gossip was going in the Great Hall during dinner tonight. "I was there before the boys did the charm."

"But didn't it happen-"

The loud thwack of the door slamming open steals both of our attention. Lorelei, who is wearing a questionably tight tank top, saunters in with Winona close behind. I steal a glance at Sharon and am thankful when I see that her interest has shifted from me to Winona and Lorelei.

"-and you don't own him," Lorelei huffs as she steps into the room.

"I never said I did!"

"Then stop acting like you do!" Lorelei hisses as she spins around to face Winona. She grabs her tooth brush and heads out to the bathroom. "Face it, Winona," she says. "I know you secretly love competition, so you should understand the strategy of it all. You've wasted a lot of time, Winnie. He's open. You shouldn't blame me for going after him, and you shouldn't expect him to keep waiting forever." With a satisfied smirk, Lorelei turns on her heel, leaving Winona seething. Once Lorelei leaves the room, slamming the door behind her, Winona jumps onto her bed face first, her face smothered in a pillow.

"I can't believe they won't let us switch roommates from first year," Sharon huffs. She throws the blanket off of her and sits next to Winona. "It seemed like a good idea to let her be with us six years ago, but c'mon we were eleven."

"Yeah," Winona agrees, her voice muffled by the pillow. "If we'd known that she'd turn into a she-demon once she hit puberty I would've locked the doors instantly." Winona goes on to explain how Walt was helping her with a charm she had been having trouble on, when Lorelei sauntered in wearing that tank top she claimed was just her pajamas, jumping around him, bubbling and giggling.

"Did you lose it on her?" I ask.

Winona shakes her head at me as she puts her wispy blonde hair up into a bun. "Unlike you, Vel," she says, mainly teasing, but also with a lot of truth in her voice. "I know what self-control is." I give her a pointed look. She sighs, "Alright, I may have lost it on her a little bit, but only once Walt had gone to bed."

Sharon narrows her eyes at Winona. "Did you lose it on her because of her or because of Walt?"

"I mean," Winona says, trying to find the words. "It wasn't just… It was the way she was acting you know?" Sharon and I knowingly glance at each other. Winona rolls her eyes. "Also, Walt never finished explaining the charm to me, so there goes my grade in Charms."

Winona lies back down in her bed, pulling the covers over her. Sharon and I share one more look and then head back to our own beds. I feel a pang of guilt for not being fully on my best friend's side, but Lorelei's point is valid. Winona has been wasting every opportunity with Walt, and I can't figure out their hesitation. Part of me thinks back to the boggarts; Lorelei's greatest fear was that she was unloved and she expressed her fear of rejection through Walt. If Winona's not taking action, it makes perfect sense for Lorelei to be. Why is Winona waiting? Walt is right there and I don't know why she doesn't just take what she wants.

It doesn't make sense to me.

v

 _Leigh is trying really hard to get off of the Lowerclassmen Team and onto the Upperclassmen Team. Winona has been helping him out a lot. Do you remember Winona? My friend with the blonde hair? Anyway, she's on the team already, and really talented. Kane (my friend with the spiky black hair) tried coaching him once, but knocked him off the broom with a Bludger._

I grimace as I look at the last part of the paragraph. Dad would envision Leigh dropping from twenty stories up, landing on the ground, cracking his head open, and dying.

 _Kane (my friend with the spiky black hair) tried coaching him once, but_ _knocked him off the broom with a Bludger._ _it didn't go too well._

I imagine Dad losing his mind over the vagueness of the statement. He would wonder what 'not going well' meant, and then he would wonder if Leigh was injured or dead, and then he would wonder if Quidditch was safe, and then he would wonder if the school was safe at all, and then he would wonder if he should pull Leigh out of Hogwarts, and then he would wonder if he should pull me out of Hogwarts, and then he would wonder how the hell would he go about to sue the school, and then…

 _Kane (my friend with the spiky black hair) tried coaching him once, but_ _knocked him off the broom with a bludger. it didn't go too well._ _Kane is busy studying a lot, so it's usually Winona that trains him._

 _We both love you. Tell Aunt Iris we send our love as well. She wrote to me and mentioned that since you got the dog you've been walking around the neighborhood more. I'll write you again soon._

 _All my love,_

 _Velma_

I sign my name and quickly reread the entirety of my letter. Ever since I've been staying in the Room of Requirement, I've finally had so much alone time to hear myself think. I've been able to finish the letter to my dad. I've even had time to send Aunt Iris and Uncle Conway, my mom's siblings, letters; it's nice to write them about school since Dad doesn't understand magic.

I fold the letter up, matching the corners exactly so the fold makes symmetrical pieces. Two years ago Aunt Iris would check up on Dad every month while Leigh and I were at school; last year she made visits weekly; this year she bought an apartment close to our neighborhood. I crease the parchment and write 'Dad' on the side of the letter, but the loud noise of the door to the Room forming distracts me and messes me up. I frown at the extra line I made, wanting the letter to be absolutely perfect for Dad. Dad had been really strong when Mom died, even though Leigh, Marissa, and I knew he was more hurt that he'd ever let us know. But Marissa's death nearly broke him-

The door formed.

Someone is coming in.

As the door creaks open, I scramble to me feet, quickly summoning all my things to follow behind me. I grab my wand and start to mutter the Concealment Charm around me. Though my eyes are closed, focused on my charm, I hear the quiet footsteps of someone entering the room. I feel something cold wash over me, and look down at my hands to confirm I am invisible. I move slowly, despite the charm, and peak from around the wall. And there he is.

Ames.

He stands with his back toward me, his head tilted down toward something. I sidle along the wall, worried my charm won't hold. I watch him intently. He stands there with his wand up and shoulder back. I hear him murmur something under his breath, and watch as a dark light flecked with bright spots leaks from his wand and starts to swirl around him. My breath catches and fear fills me. Professor Potter was wrong. They're going to start it again. The Battle was for nothing because no matter what, there will always be someone there to start it again. It's only a matter of time.

Hesitation is a weakness. Without thinking any of my thoughts through, I take the invisibility charm off of me. I aim my wand at him and silently cast _stupefy_ , knocking his wand out of his hand. The dark light suddenly disappears and Ames spins around, scared and confused.

"Who just-?"

"I knew you'd show up," I interrupt. My voice stays unwavering and forceful, but on the inside I feel panicked and urgent. "Just now what kind of magic was that?"

He stares at me with shocked eyes, looking me up and down. After a moment, he fully processes my presence. "Velma?" he yelps. "Where did you-"

"Shut up!" I demand. I point my wand right in between his eyes. "What were you just doing?" Ames goes cross-eyed for a second, but looks back up at me. All he can manage to do is shake his head. My voice drops to a whisper. "I've never seen magic look like that before. What was that?"

Ames is flustered; I've never seen him flustered before. He takes a step away from me and shakes his head. "I-I don't know what you're talking about," he stutters. He glances down at his wand, dark with a noticeable curve. Walnut, I think.

"Don't touch it! Don't even look at it!" I order. He holds eye contact with me. "If you lie to me, I won't hesitate, Ames." _Not like last time_ , I think to myself. "Was that dark magic?"

" _Dark magic_?"

"Answer now, Ames!"

"No."

"I said, answer!"

"I did!" he shouts at me. He takes a deep breath, regaining composure. "I meant no meaning 'no' I wasn't doing any dark magic, not 'no' I won't answer you." He blinks a few times, clearly off his game and unable to make eye contact with me. "Could," he mutters. "Could you lower your wand?"

I glare at him and ignore his request. "If that wasn't dark magic, then what were you doing in here?" I hiss.

Ames frowns at down at the ground, his hands still up. "I sing," he whispers.

"What?" I ask dumbfounded.

He sighs and looks at me frankly. "Look," he says. "You've probably picked up on the fact that… Well, that I'm not the _best_ at emotions. Some spells kind of rely on being fully tapped in on your emotions, and… that's not really… my thing," Ames looks at me sheepishly. " _Singing_ just helps me express what I'm feeling."

"Yeah?" I ask skeptically. "Where'd you learn it? Who taught you?"

"No one taught me," Ames says, irritated. "I had to figure it out myself. It's my system. And it's… it still needs to be perfected. It's exhausting. I don't… I… Velma, you have to believe me. It is _not_ dark magic." He looks at me dead in the eye. "I know you've seen me do it."

My eyes widen as I think back. "That day with my dragon…?"

"Yeah, so if you could just lower your wand…" he says tentatively.

My focus snaps back into place and I keep my arm steadily up. "No. No, I don't believe you, Ames. I don't trust you. There are no reasons to trust you. What were you doing in here?"

"Velma," he sighs exasperated. "I don't know what you want me to say. If you don't believe me, that's not my fault. What are you going to do if you aren't going to believe the truth? Wait a month for Winona Hurst to make you a bottle of Veritaserum?"

"I wouldn't waste anything from Winona's stock on a slug like you," I hiss. Ames raises his eyebrows maybe a millimeter up, maybe a bit surprised. I take a step closer to him and press the tip of my wand into his neck. "You'll really regret it if you don't start being honest Ames."

"I don't know how to prove it to you," he says so quietly I barely hear him, despite how close we stand. "We didn't have Defense Against the Dark Arts together last year when we started nonverbal spells, but trust me, I'm _worse_ than useless at them. I rely on singing or at least whispering in song under my breath when I cast anything." I tilt my head at him, and he glares at me. "What reasons could you possibly have for not trusting me?"

"What reasons do I have to trust you?" I retort.

Without missing a beat, Ames answers, "I guess you have none, so it looks like we'll have to resort to violence. But I think we both know you'd beat me easily, especially if you made me do it nonverbally, so let's not waste any time and just skip to the end when you kill me." My face falls and I slowly lower my arm to my side. Ames looks at me with cold eyes. "I _do not_ practice dark magic, Velma."

I blink rapidly. "Fine," I say. "Why don't you-"

"No, I think it's fair for me to ask you a few questions now," Ames says defensively. "What- What are you doing in here? Were you following me?"

"That's none of your business."

"It is completely my business," he hisses.

I feel my words getting stuck in my throat, and my confident façade fading away. Ames glares at me with such intensity, it makes me lose my train of thought. "I was just… I thought… I was in here working and I saw you. There're have been rumors, so I assumed-"

He takes a step toward me, staring at me accusingly. "No, the first thing you said when you confronted me was 'I knew you'd show up'. You were waiting for me." He takes another step closer to me, still looking at me with his electric eyes. "What were you doing?"

With his voice oddly intense and his breath on the side of my face, I know I won't be able to hold my pathetic lie for much longer. I push Ames away from me, frustrated. "Fine!" I shout, my voice and his footsteps echoing. "It was after that day when we had that lesson with the boggart and, and- I saw my sister. I needed a place to calm down. I came in here, and, frankly, Payton ratted you out." Ames lets out a frustrated sigh. Embarrassed, I close my eyes and blurt the rest out, "I heard you were doing questionable stuff, so I tried to catch you in the act, but I guess I liked having alone time because I _never_ have alone time, so I used looking for you as an excuse to… I don't know. Avoid my friends, I guess."

I let out a big breath and snap my eyes back open to see Ames staring back at me. He rocks back and forth on his feet, nodding awkwardly. "Oh," he says. The anger has left his face, and once again I can't read him. "I'm… sorry."

Even though it should probably be me apologizing to him, I nod back at him, accepting his apology. I stiffly wave my wand, and bag comes flying toward me. I quickly slip it over my shoulder and mutter, "Well, I should… I should go."

Before Ames can say another word, I head for the door. As I wait for it to materialize, I can't help it and turn back to look at him. He's right where I left him, looking back at me, and even from here I can just make out the blue of his eyes.

The door forms, and I leave.

v

While the world I live in is often portrayed as a wondrous adventure, it is more than obvious that in reality I reside in is a dark world full of devious people.

Oh, high school. There's no difference between you in the muggle world or in the wizard world.

Alright, maybe I'm being a _tad_ bit dramatic. However, as I approach Calix in the library 'cheesy teen drama' is the term that comes to mind when I think about high school.

I tried not to ask Calix since I knew there was a high chance that the conversation would just end unpleasantly. Payton was no help since she's a year behind me. Solomon, a boy who I've been close with since second year, has next to no memory, and when I had tried to ash Juni for help, she merely shrugged and told me I should ask Calix. At that point, I had convinced myself that this was destiny pushing us together, so I might as well use this as an excuse to speak with him.

Thankfully, he sits there by himself, which is odd since he usually travels in a pack of his friends. A book levitates in front of him, and he looks up and back down at his paper scribbling notes. Despite being a Ravenclaw, Calix is very bad at planning, so he ends up procrastinating on a lot of his schoolwork. That leads to him pulling _lots_ of all-nighters and then he gets stressed out a lot. I think his lack of prioritization played a factor in why we broke up.

"Is this a bad time?" I ask as I walk up behind Calix.

He turns around and looks at me with a focused glare. Most people would be offended by the stare, but I recognize the look as Calix's cramming face. After a beat, the expression melts and he greets me with a tired smile. "Oh, you know me," he says as he puts down his quill. "It's always a bad time. What's up, Vels?"

A part of me in the back of my head can't help but smile when he reverts back into my old nickname. Of course, 'Vels' isn't that different from 'Vel', but still. I haven't heard it in a while. "Look, this is kind of a weird question," I whisper, partially because we are in a library and partially because secrecy. "Last year the Ravenclaws had Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Slytherins, right?"

"Well, you had DADA with the Hufflepuffs, so…"

"Right," I sigh, choosing to filter out the condescending tone in Calix's voice. "Do you remember when you guys first started learning about nonverbal spells?"

He furrows his eyebrows and gently chews on the inside of his cheek. "Well, it was in the winter. Definitely in December, before Christmas. I remember because there was this argument between you and me about some Christmas present the day we started the lesson on-"

"Wait, sorry I was unclear," I interrupt awkwardly as I take a seat next to him. "It's good to see that your memory is still incomparable, but I didn't mean the date, I meant more of… the general event of it."

"Oh," Calix says. "Well, in _that_ case, of course. I remember it easily. If I recall correctly, I picked it up rather quickly compared to the rest of the class."

"Were there any people who… didn't pick up nonverbal spells so quickly?" I ask, failing to sound casual.

Calix suddenly frowns at me and a rush of panic washes over me. Can he possibly know the reason I'm asking? "Ah, Vels," he teases. When I hear the tone of his voice, I instantly calm. He doesn't know. "Are you having trouble with nonverbals? The great Velma Caplan can't do sixth year work?"

My cheeks turn a light shade of pink. "What? No! I can do the spells just fine. I… I just need to know what you remember about Ames Fremont during those lessons."

Calix takes a beat to glance up at the ceiling, trying to remember. After a moment, he lets out a scoff. "Oh, I remember Fremont and his nonverbals. He was absolute shit at them. It was so odd. Fremont has been one of the most talented Slytherins since we were young, but when he had to duel with the nonverbals even Juni beat him easy. Isn't he your partner in DADA?" I nod. "Is that why you're asking?"

"Just following a hunch," I answer as I stand up.

"You couldn't just drop it, could you, Vels?" Calix laughs as he goes back to his notes. "I guess some things just don't change."

With Calix focus on his notes again, I take a brief moment to look at him. Crinkly hazel-green eyes. Reddish-brown hair. Foot taping in time with his scribbling. I really liked Calix. "Yeah," I respond. "Some things can't."

As I leave the library, against my better judgement, I look over my shoulder. Calix still takes down his notes, but glances up once to smile at me. He looks back to his book before I can smile back.

v

Seeing Ames in the Room of Requirement was kind of like seeing Ames without any clothes on. Unguarded. Awkward. Uncomfortable. But then he turned the tables on me, and I was the one who ended up without any metaphorical clothes on.

This makes being partners in class awkward.

We avoid eye contact. We don't speak to each other. We don't get within a two foot radius of each other. It reminds me of the good old days when things were simple and Charlotte was my partner. I never thought Charlotte would be my good old days. Despite the lack of communication, I pay special attention to Ames's mouth as we send hexes back and forth. Every few spells, I see it. I see his mouth ever so slightly opening and closing, singing the words under his breath. It's intriguing, and I hate to admit it, but it's kind of amazing that he figured out his system on his own.

Class ends and everyone begins to clear out. I move slowly and let most of the crowd pass by me. I'll miss my alone time in the Room of Requirement. I realize craving my solitude makes me sound weird and anti-social and like I hate my friends, but I don't. I should just embrace the excitement they all bring; in fact I already get a taste of today's dramatic antics when I hear the argument Kane and Winona have up ahead.

"He doesn't get to talk to you that way!" Kane growls. "Only I get to talk to you that way in a semi-sarcastic manner."

"Please drop it, Kane," Winona sighs.

"If I'd talk to you like that, I know for a fact you'd kick me, so if you won't kick Holt, I will. And, you know, you're lucky it was me who heard and not Walt-"

"Kane, _please_."

"Look, Velma will agree with me," he says. I freeze in my tracks and immediately feel guilty for avoiding them. "Where's she been lately?" Kane asks as his voice fades out.

I trudge out the door slowly. In the middle of my debate of if I can just get the same feeling of alone time in the library or from taking a walk outside, someone touches my shoulder. I turn around and see Professor Potter, his hair immaculately messy and his grin as warm as ever.

"Velma," he says. "Everything all right? You seemed a little off in class today."

"Yes," I respond, a little too quickly. "I… Um… It's just been a rough week."

Though clearly suspicious, he nods. "Well, I'm sure, if anything, next week will be better," he offers. "Have a nice-" A loud crash interrupts Potter, followed by a few shouts. I look to him, expecting him to be angry and ready to whatever nonsense was starting, but he looks almost amused.

"Aren't you going to stop them?" I ask.

"Nah," he says. "You lot are teenagers, and I'm sure you'll recall I did some idiotic things back when I was around. Besides, everyone's has been decently well-behaved lately. I'll just let this one play itself out. Have a good day, Velma."

A genuine grin spreads across my face. "You too, Professor."

I rush out the door and not far from the classroom a circle surrounding a few fighting students has formed. In the middle, I see Kane flinging curses at Holt, who returns them just as fast. Near the edge of the crowd is Winona, looking terribly embarrassed of the situation, and Walt, having an internal debate of whether he should live up to his Gryffindor heart and join in with Kane, or live up to his Head Boy expectations and quash the fight. Renata jumps in the circle and tries to hit Kane with _stupefy_ , but the stun is blocked by Sharon, who jumps in next to Kane. The crowd shouts and-

"Your friends are loud."

I turn and see Ames leaning against a wall, but watching the fight. His head swivels toward me and he looks at me with a strange combination of amusement and indifference. "Your friends are too," I retort.

He glances at the crowd focused on the fight and then back to me. Ames takes a step closer to me and bends his head a little down. "It's a big room," he whispers. "You won't even know I'm in there." I look up at him uncertainly, but Ames is apparently very talented at evading eye contact. "I don't think either of us wants our friends to know," he continues, "so stay a little behind."

With that, he casually walks away. I look back at the fight and hear the taunts going back and forth between the Gryffindors and the Slytherins. I debate my choices, and even though the correct one is obvious, I decide to go against it.

And so, following exactly twelve steps behind, I go with Ames to the Room of Requirement.


	9. Ames and His Emotions

**Chapter Nine** **–** **Ames and his Emotions**

One of the most uncomfortable situations I've ever been put in was during my family vacation when I was eight. My family had traveled all the way to California and spent one of our days there at Disneyland. As far back as I can remember, Marissa had a habit of being a bit pretentious and during that trip, she wouldn't stop scoffing at the 'inaccurate representations of magic.'

"Why doesn't your wand have a star at the end of?" I had asked Marissa as I waved around the plastic blue Fairy Godmother wand Dad had bought for me. I still remember the feeling of pride I had when Dad bought it for me; only being eight, I hadn't gotten my wand yet, so having this substitute to one like Marissa's was revolutionary. Especially when I was younger, being like Marissa was extremely important to me.

" _Real_ wands don't have decorations like that," Marissa sneered as she bit into her cotton candy. I had frowned down at my wand, disappointed she wasn't as impressed with it as I was. "I don't think the real ones come in that color either. The ones used at Hogwarts are much more impressive. You'll see one day, Velma, trust me."

Her snobbish attitude had continued that day and she began to compare the rollercoaster rides at the park to flying on her broom.

"That was amazing!" Leigh had exclaimed as he stumbled off the Matterhorn. "Did you feel how fast we were going? How fast were we going, Marissa?"

"I'd say it was only about 20 miles fast, Leigh," Marissa answered, unimpressed. Leigh and I shared a glance and frowned at her. "When you get to Hogwarts and start flying lessons," she continued in a lower voice, "these kind of rides will seem like nothing to you."

Now it wasn't my sister's peevish, yet accurate comments that made me uncomfortable. My brother and I, both annoyed with Marissa's superiority, decided to ride the next ride without her. The park was relatively uncrowded, so Leigh and I were able to get a tea cup for just the two of us. For the first half of the ride, it was awfully fun and I was hoping Marissa wouldn't spoil it for me. Luckily, she didn't have to. Leigh, my shit little brother, spoiled it by vomiting all over me mid-spin. I had to walk around the park smelling faintly of vomit for the rest of the day.

The second most uncomfortable situation might've been in the Room of Requirement with Ames.

When I stepped into the room again, I felt such a relief of being alone. However, that relief instantly dissolved the moment I saw Ames in the room. He stood with his back to me, his cloak tossed to the side. I stood awkwardly near the door for a few moments, waiting for him to acknowledge me.

"Velma," Ames had said after the moments of silence.

I nodded at him, but quickly realized that nodding was futile since he hadn't even bothered to look at me. "Yeah?" I quickly asked, hopeful he'd say something to ease the tension.

"Take a step out of the doorway to let the door close," he said. "I'd rather not explain to anyone what I'm doing here with you."

I let out a deep sigh, annoyed at him. "Right," I quipped sarcastically. "You don't want to be seen with me. Well, heaven forbid that'd anyone see me with the shadiest Slytherin at school." I meet his eyes; instead of seeing anger or annoyance as I had expected, he stared at me with eyes that I could only interpret as sad. I coughed lightly, "Sorry. That was… uncalled for."

Ames looked away from me and stared at the ground. He held this pause for so long I had thought he was simply done talking to me, but when he finally spoke, again, he didn't even look at me. "You," he said softly, "shouldn't apologize. Not to me."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "What does that mean?"

"Exactly what I want it to," Ames had answered. What does Ames ever mean?

"You've been acting weird," Kane says to me.

My head shoots up from my oatmeal and out of my reverie, trying to decipher Ames's patterns. Kane stares at me from across the Great Hall dining table. I glare back at him, hiding my nerves. "I haven't been," I manage to say.

Kane props his arms on the table, his elbow pads thudding on the wood and keeping his narrow eyes on me. "Vellie, you can't lie to me. It just doesn't work. What's up with you?"

My feet start to sweat, but I manage to hold my ground against him. "Shouldn't you be focusing on carb loading?" I sneer. "Focus on the game, Long. If we lose today, I'll blame you."

"You want me to carb load?" Kane asks incredulously. "You _want_ me to be another human garbage disposal?" We both turn to Winona, eating even faster than usual. She scoops spoonful after spoonful of pancake in her mouth, not having an inkling of our conversation. Kane scrunches up his face and pulls the plate out from under her. "Honestly, Winona," Kane says. "That's disgusting. You're going to puke on the field."

"Leave me alone," Winona says after chewing and swallowing all her food; talking with food in one's mouth is a huge pet peeve of hers. "The Slytherins are as relentless as we are. If the game doesn't end for hours, being malnourished is the last thing I'd want."

"No disrespect to you, Winona, but I never really understood how any of the players besides the Seeker are important," I say, knowing this turn the conversation away from me. "Don't get me wrong, you're an excellent Chaser, but even if you played one of your best games, the Seeker could ruin it for you, couldn't they?"

Kane rolls his eyes. "You just don't understand Quidditch, Velma," he sighs as he stretches his arms behind his head. "There have been tons of games where the Seeker gets the Snitch, but their team still loses."

"It's just uncommon," Winona adds. She leans in a little and speaks a little faster than normal, a typical reaction for Winona when she starts talking about Quidditch. "It ups the stakes, you know? Either team could win, no matter what the point standing is."

In the middle of Winona's explanation, Ellis walks up to us with an angry expression on his face. At first I'm worried it's because of me questioning the systems of Quidditch, but he swats Winona on the back of the head and breaks out in a sarcastic grin. Winona lurches forward, nearly spitting out some of her pancakes. She turns around to Ellis and rubs the back of her head.

"You have your gloves on already, that hurt!" Winona complains to Ellis, who takes a seat next to her.

He shrugs good-naturedly. Ellis McGowan is this year's Seeker and the captain of our Quidditch team. Probably after Walt, Ellis is one of the best-looking guys in the Gryffindor year. However, unlike Walt's brooding air, Ellis looks more playful. His caramel brown hair is always casually messy, leading me to suspect he styles it messy purposefully. He has crinkly blue eyes and seems to always have a half-smile stuck on his face. Ellis is nonchalant about most things; not to say that he's careless, but he's one of those people whose mantra is unironically 'go with the flow' or 'que sera, sera.' Of course there are a few things Ellis always takes seriously. Quidditch is one of them.

"Winnie, c'mon," he scolds playfully. While his voice still pertains his natural Ellis-like casualness, I hear the tension in his voice. "We've measured it out haven't we? You lose five percent of your speed after one of your big meals. You promised me you'd eat light today."

Winona sighs and pushes her plate away. "If you insist," she concedes.

Ellis nods and begins bouncing on the balls of his feet. "You all good, Kane?" Ellis asks. Kane gives him two thumbs up, and Ellis begins another round of frantic nodding. "Good, good. I just really want to beat the Slytherins, and let's be honest, most of the school wants us to beat the Slytherins too, and _c'mon_ guys! I just really want to win."

Kane and Winona share a glance; I, however, am left out of this conversation. As the three argue about Quidditch strategy, my mind wanders around the room. I look down the table to see Leigh, his face painted in red and yellow Gryffindor colors, being chatted up by a cute Ravenclaw girl. From the Ravenclaw table, I spot Calix surrounded by his friends, wearing a Gryffindor scarf to show support for our team today; actually, that might be _my_ scarf. Part of me wants to go over and get my scarf back from him, but then I would have to give him back any of his clothes I have left over from the relationship.

Across the room the Slytherins sit interacting with each other a bit louder than usual. I spot Charlotte, her hair in a neat ponytail and wearing her Seeker's uniform. She catches my eye, and she and I share what I believe to be is an amicable nod. I stand by my earlier statement: Charlotte isn't too bad. On the other hand, the rest of the Slytherins are condescending, rude, and arrogant.

I would love to see them lose today.

v

Winona was right. I don't really get Quidditch.

But, damn, even if I don't understand it, Quidditch is one exciting sport.

The Slytherin chasers fly past where Sharon and I sit together, and our hair is blown around as they zoom past. I move Sharon's mess of dark curls out of my eyes just in time to see the blur of the Gryffindor chasers flying close behind them.

"THAT'S OUR WINONA!" Sharon screeches like a banshee. "GO WINONA! TEAR THE SLYTHERINS APART!"

Though I'm not as enthusiastic as Sharon is by even half, I cheer along with the crowd. Kane waits by the Gryffindor scoring posts, his beater's bat ready. Finn, a fifth year and Kane's beater partner, sends the bludger hurdling past the flock of chasers, right to Kane. Kane swings at the bludger with all his might and sends it flying right to Laine, the sixth year Slytherin with the quaffle. The crowd audibly gasps as she falls from her broom, but Laine catches her broom by the foot at the last second. As she swings herself back onto her broom, Winona whizzes by and snatchers the quaffle out from the air. Everyone, Slytherins not included, bursts into cheers.

"You got it, Winona," I hear someone whisper through all the shouts. From the corner of my eye, I see Walt watching her with great intent, whispering under his breath. "Come on, Winona, you've got this."

"And Hurst has the quaffle!" the commentator, Aria Palmer, shouts over the crowds roars. "She's going! She's going! Oh! And that's 15 points to Gryffindor!"

My friends and I all jump around in the stands, cheering for Winona. Winona flies near us, riding hands-free to fix her hair. Even Lorelei and Oka cheer her on openly; just goes to show that nothing brings the Gryffindors together like a common enemy.

"What's this? It looks like McGowan has spotted the Golden Snitch!" Aria cries out, tearing all of our attention back to her. "This might be a faster game than we all thought it'd be, ladies and gentlemen."

"Do you guys see Ellis?" Sharon asks.

Walt scans the field, his dark eyes serious. "Can't say I do. I wish they wouldn't announce when they've found the Snitch; Charlotte might find Ellis before we do."

A yellow blur flies in front of us so fast I nearly don't see it. I blink a few times, "Was that the-" Before I can finish my thought, Ellis, in a similar blurred form, flies in front of us as well. Not a second later, Charlotte passes by us as well. We all lean forward in our seats. Lorelei nods, "It was."

Our eyes follow Ellis and Charlotte chasing around the Golden Snitch. The Snitch is only a few inches out of Ellis's reach, but Charlotte is creeping up behind him by the second. I feel the blood pump through my veins with tension; a win for the Slytherins is the last thing any of us want. We cheer Ellis on, as does most of the stadium, pounding our feet and the floor and chanting his name.

Ellis reaches.

Everything seems to slow down, and I feel like I can see the moment from Ellis's eyes. His hand less than an inch away from the Snitch with the crowd's shouts fading out in the background. Charlotte close behind, near enough to hear her labored breathing. Close enough to hear the wings of the Snitch in the wind.

My vision snaps back into my point of view just in time to see the bludger fall down on Ellis's shoulder. Holt had positioned himself above the Seekers and sent the bludger down onto Ellis. All our chanting stops abruptly to hear Ellis's wail of pain. Our faces fall, but Ellis rides his broom one-handed. His injured arm is left dangling to the side, and it sends shivers up my spine thinking of how much pain Ellis must be in right now. The crowd can't decide whether to hold our breath in anticipation or to scream and cheer as loud as we can for him, but before we can choose, Dwight sends the same bludger up from under Ellis, striking him hard in the other arm and jaw. The Golden Snitch flies off with Charlotte close behind it, but Ellis hovers there for a moment with Holt and Dwight still sandwiching him in the air. It seems as though Ellis might have a little more fight left in him as he prepares to keep flying, but Holt sends the bludger down on Ellis one final time, knocking him off his broom. Walt lurches forward in his seat, trying to save Ellis with a levitation charm, but the force of the bludger is too strong, and Ellis is sent crashing to the ground.

"And…" Aria's voice wavers. She coughs and quickly musters up the cheerful commentator voice back. "And Charlotte Ronan has caught the Golden Snitch! Slytherin wins!"

The Slytherins burst into cheers as the rest of the stadium stays silent. Ellis lays on the ground, unmoving. My breathing turns heavy and part of me wonders if what had just happened was just a dream. Could Holt and Dwight actually do something like that to him? Could they stoop so low to win?

"Ellis!" Lorelei screams, her shrill voice finally put to good use. "Someone go help him!"

Charlotte flies down to where Ellis lays. I can't see either one of them from here, but I can only assume the worst. Winona and the other Chasers are the next down. I see Winona kneel on the ground, gently looking at Ellis's head as the other two Chaser girls push Charlotte away from him. Potter and Madame Pomfrey rush onto the field next, both seeming frantic.

"Even Potter looks worried," Sharon mutters in a hushed voice. "If Harry Potter is worried about something, then, well…" Her voice trails off and she lets the unsaid remain unsaid.

My attention turns away from Ellis to Dwight and Holt, still floating up above on their brooms. They talk to each other jubilantly about winning the match, not even giving Ellis a passing thought.

v

"Oh, you're in here?" I hiss.

Ames looks up at me from his notebook. "I was in here first," he shrugs, "You're welcome to leave." I send him back a glare as the door disappears from behind me. I walk in, dropping my bag on the floor. He frowns at me. "Did I… Did I do something wrong?"

"No, of course not," I say bitterly. "It's just that all of your friends are cynical, hateful Neanderthals, and your friendship shows _a lot_ about your personality."

We stare at each other for a few moments. Ames runs a hand through his parted blonde hair and sighs, "I supposed you're… talking about Ellis McGowan, aren't you?" My glare holds steady. Ames gestures at the door again. "If you really have problem with me, I meant what I said, you can leave."

Part of me does want to storm out. What Holt and Dwight and those Slytherins did to Ellis was utterly despicable. They had left Ellis in a practically unrecognizable state; his tousled hair and crinkly blue eyes were hidden by blood and bruises.

I had gone the Infirmary with Kane and Winona shortly after the match had ended. Ellis lay in the bed; Madame Pomfrey stood to his right, wiping his face, and Professor Potter stood to his left, looking authoritative and concerned. To put it bluntly, Ellis looked like Hell. The first hit from the bludger had dislocated his right shoulder and broken a few bones in his arm. The second hit had completely snapped the bone in half and dislocated Ellis's jaw, making his face look off-centered. The third hit struck Ellis in his gut and slammed him into the ground, which meant some part of Ellis's internal organs were damaged and he now had somewhat of a crack in his skull. Blood had clumped parts of his hair together and had run down his face, sealing up his right eye.

We all looked at Ellis with concern and fear. Ellis managed to open his one good eye. Due to the dislocated jaw, he couldn't move his mouth properly, but a pleased smile shone through eyes. "Kane," he said, pride in his voice. "You're swings have gotten really powerful. Don't think I haven't noticed. And Winona, I told you light eating would pay off today. I was right, wasn't I?"

"I require the room, don't I?" I huff at Ames as I sit and take out my Herbology book from my bag. "I'm going to read in here."

No response from Ames follows. I'm very rarely in a situation where there is a lack of argument; between my short-fused little brother and all my opinionated Gryffindor friends, it's always easy to pick a fight with someone if you need to expend negative energy. The only one who never liked to have a good argument with me was Marissa. There were never any screaming matches with her, not like Leigh and me. She was so non-confrontational, always opting the civil 'talk things out' solution. When I was younger, I would remember my sister's systems and try to imitate her whenever Kane tried to pick a fight about something inconsequential.

But of course, Marissa isn't here anymore, is she?

Frustrated, I slam my book down on the ground, sending a reverberating noise throughout the room. Ames looks up from his notebook, still generally uninterested looking. I stand and march over to him, my grey eyes nearly twitching from the pent up rage I have for Ellis. "How can you be so indifferent to what they did to Ellis?!" I shout. "I can't _believe_ the injuries they gave him today!"

"You are aware that we are magical, yes?" he asks me, rising to his feet. "Ellis McGowan is going to recover. Madame Pomfrey can fix broken bones in about a minute. He'll be sore for a few days, but he'll be fine."

"It takes a bit longer to heal the bones when it's a skull," I practically spit out at him. Ames's eyes widen, but he remains with the detached look on his face. I jab him in the chest with my finger. "And healing the internal injuries takes a bit longer as well."

"They wanted to win today, that's all," Ames argues as he swats my hand away. "It wasn't a personal attack."

"Really?" I hiss, stepping closer to him. "Really? Damaging Ellis like that was just a strategy? God, you really aren't as smart as you lead everyone to believe, are you? How can you be so numb to everything all the time?"

Ames drops his defense for a moment. Something in his eyes shift and he stops moving away from me. "I'm not numb," he says to me with a matter of fact tone in his voice.

I roll my eyes, annoyed at his turn in the conversation. "After six years of knowing you, Ames," I respond bluntly. "I've seen your emotions and reactions range from mildly annoyed, indifferent, to somewhat pleased-"

"That doesn't mean I don't feel things," Ames says, sounding slightly offended. "I feel, I just don't show. Listen," he sighs. "I feel bad about what they did to McGowan, but it was my friends who did what they did, not me. If you're looking for someone to blame, maybe you go look for _them_."

"You feel, you just don't show?" I repeat, anger pulsing through me. God, he never makes any sense. Why doesn't _anything_ ever make any sense anymore? "What does that even mean, Ames?"

"It means what it means," he answers. I give him a glare, and he raises both hands up in defense. "Fine, fine. I won't give you that answer. Erm… I don't know. It's just how I am. If I'm sad, I'll feel the sadness, but I won't cry. If I think something is funny, I'll feel the happiness, but I don't laugh."

"That sounds like depression."

"It's not depressing," he retorts. "It's just the way I am. Besides, it really could be worse."

"Worse?" I scoff, still feeling contempt for Ames. Contempt for the Slytherins. Contempt for what they did to Ellis. "How much worse can you get from an apathetic know-it-all who can't manage to do a nonverbal to save his life?"

Ames's blue eyes flare with a quiet rage. His voice stays calm, but the spark in his eyes gives away that I struck a chord in him. "Well," he hisses, not missing a beat, "I could be a neurotic shut-in who has never been able to keep her emotions under control."

The room fills with an uncomfortable silence. An odd mix of regret, anger, and offense flows over me. On the one hand, Ames is right; he knows I'm hiding out in the Room of Requirement to avoid my friends, and he's known me since we were eleven, of course he knows my emotions can be like a time-bomb. On the other hand, who the hell does he think he is? You don't just talk about someone's neurosis; _I_ don't even talk about my neurosis. What makes him think that he can talk to me like that? What makes him think he can talk to anyone like that?

Ames inhales sharply and awkwardly rubs his hands together. He turns his attention to the floor, effectively evading eye contact with me. He chews on the inside of his cheek for a few beats, leaving me there just as awkwardly rocking back and forth on my feet.

"That wasn't…" Ames begins. He stops and begins chewing on the inside of his mouth again, apparently planning out what to say next. He sighs, "I shouldn't have said that. Velma, you can be… You're not-" he keeps fumbling with his words helplessly. His eyes finally make their way to meet my gaze. He stares earnestly at me, expecting an apology; I expect an apology to leave my mouth as well, but when I open my mouth no words fall out.

"I'm sorry," he finally says.

"I…" my voice manages to say. Tears prick at my eyes. Am I crying? Why am I crying? Why should I care what Ames thinks of me? "… Me too."

We stand there a bit longer, but Ames quickly breaks our eye contact. I can't help it, but I continue to stare at him. He holds his wand in his hand like he's about to work on more spells, but he abruptly turns back to me. "And… I'm not just saying that. The apology, I mean. I wish I was able to… I'm _not_ -"

"Ames," I sigh, feeling pathetic and resigned. Pity. He's pitying me. I had gained a disdain for pity not when Marissa had died, but much earlier, when Mom had died. All the kids at my school (all the muggles; Dad had sent my siblings and I to muggle school before Hogwarts) saw me as this miserable sob story, but the pity hadn't stopped after Mom's death. For years after, everyone heard rumors about my dad, who barely held it together without Mom, and a lot of them assumed that I was like him – something breakable. The worst part about it was that they were right. I _am_ like Dad – someone who can't deal with trauma correctly because their wild emotions send them over the edge. I shake my head at Ames, "You don't have to do that. You were right. You were right; my emotions have always been out of control. You were right."

Ames shrugs at me. "Well, maybe I was right," he says. "It doesn't really matter since my point… My point is that emotions aren't weaknesses. The way you feel doesn't make you weak."

"Actually, that's where you're wrong," I say, my voice quavering, "because I have a _lifetime_ of reasons my emotions have torn me down."

"Velma, stop," Ames says, surprisingly stern. "You're… You're looking at it from the wrong way, I think. It's only ever because of your emotions that you… You, um, defend your friends. Like today about Ellis? Or when you found me that first day in the Room of Requirement. You'd do anything for your friends; you'd kill for them."

Kill for my friends? Of course, it is a very Gryffindor way of thinking to do anything to defend the ones you love, but had I considered killing an option? I think back to the moments with Ames in the Room of Requirement. How had I felt? Fear. Anger. Determination. I felt all of that, but even then, there was no way I'd thought about killing Ames. … Was there? I shake my head at him again. "I wasn't… I couldn't kill anyone. I didn't even think about killing you that day."

"You might have," Ames responds casually. I stare at him agog, baffled that he'd think I'd be capable of something like that. "You could have if you'd really thought I was… If you thought I was doing what you thought I was doing. You would have protected… your people. Such a Gryffindor."

 _No matter what_. I remember myself thinking before I had confronted Ames. I replay that conversation back in my head, recalling everything we said to each other and everything I felt. "You really thought I was going to kill you?" I ask him again.

Ames hesitates for a beat and looks back down at his wand. "Since I knew you thought I was guilty…" he begins, "There was a moment when I was… worried."

I cross the room towards him, closing the gap between us. "So if you were actually worried I was going to kill you," I say in a hushed voice. "If you thought your life was really on the line, why didn't you make every effort to keep yourself alive? Self-preservation, right, Slytherin?"

"I was explaining to you what I was doing in there. I knew that you'd eventually come to your-"

"But if you really thought I could've killed you," I interrupt. "You knew there was something that could've stopped me almost instantly, so why did you play that card? Why didn't you bring up that night? Why didn't you bring up the Battle of Hogwarts?"

Ames keeps his head tilted down, his blonde hair falling in his eyes. His speaks with a voice so grave and so quiet that I almost miss his words. "I thought…" he begins. "I thought it was going to be an unspoken rule between us. To not bring up that night."

"You thought wrong, I guess."

He straightens up then, finger combing his hair to the side. "I don't talk about that night. I don't think about it. I don't…" he trails off, seemingly unable to find the right words. I let him stew in his own frustration for a moment, a bit fascinated to see this flustered persona replace Ames's typical suave one.

I stare at him with soft eyes, and Ames slowly gives up on his words. "I never thanked you for that night," I say sincerely to him.

"Good," he answers, sounding almost irritated. "You shouldn't _ever_ thank me for that night. I don't deserve… _anything_ after that night."

Ames turns away from me then, his hands grabbing at his hair, undoing all the work he does constantly pushing it to the side. I reach out to him and put my hand on his shoulder. "Ames, you aren't-"

"No," he says harshly, shaking my hand off his shoulder. Emotion. I heard it for a split second, but after the one syllable word, Ames returns to his typical tone of voice. "If it's all the same to you, Velma, I'd really, really rather not talk about that night. That night was bad for me; I can't imagine how it must've been for you."

How was that night for me? Life altering, heart breaking, world shattering. The brand of hurt and guilt that is burned into your mind and keeps you up at night and panicked during the day. The kind of thing you don't talk about to your brother or to your dad or to your best friends.

I step away from Ames and go back to the wall where I left my Herbology book. My back slides down the wall until I'm sitting on the floor. I open it to start reading, but keep my eyes on Ames. Maybe that night is the kind of thing you'd talk about to him. To Ames. Someone who wouldn't get emotional and be unbiased and only say what he truly felt and would never feel obligated to fill you with all the usual 'it wasn't your fault' sentiments.

"Still," I say in a voice so quiet, I doubt that he can hear me from across the room. "Thanks though. For that night."

He still faces away from me, so I can't read his expression. And I wonder for about the millionth time, _what does Ames ever mean?_


	10. Doesn't Feel Good

**Chapter Ten** **–** **Doesn't Feel Good**

"I think I peaked already."

"What?" I ask, confused. My brush stops midway through my hair, and I turn away from the mirror to glance at Sharon. She bounces her dark curls around, still staring at the mirror. She frowns at her reflection, and Winona and I share a confused glance. "Sharon," I say. "Everything alright?"

"No!" Sharon exclaims, tossing her comb down. "Do you remember how great I was when we were younger? I think I peaked around the third year. I was toward the top of the class in Transfiguration, and I always killed during Care of Magical Creatures-"

"Well," I say smirking. "I hope you didn't literally _kill_ any magical creatures-"

"Velma, shut up," Winona scolds, but smirks back at me. She finishes tying her boots and walks over to Sharon. "What's wrong, Sharon?"

"What's wrong is that I reached my height when I was thirteen!" Sharon groans. "And look at you guys! Velma's top of Defense Against the Dark Arts. You're Head Girl and potions goddess, Winona. Walt is Head Boy and the best at charms. Even Kane is all about Quidditch and Divination. I'm the worst."

"No, no," Winona hushes her. "What's _really_ wrong?"

Sharon looks sadly between Winona and myself. She looks distraught, but Sharon likes the fact that Winona has asked her about her issues. It's always been very _Sharon_ to throw a dramatic tantrum to get attention. "I'm barely anyone anymore," Sharon huffs. "Just last week two people referred to me as Darcie Whitt's older sister, and a different person asked me if I was the Gryffindor whose little sister is the Slytherin. God, Darcie's making my _entire_ family look bad."

"Is your brother pissed at her too?" I ask.

"Orson doesn't talk to me about Darcie anymore," Sharon responds miserably. "I don't know what to do." Sharon drops her head into her hands, and it suddenly occurs to me that this isn't her typical complaint or whiny mood; this has been weighing on her.

"Does she…" I begin cautiously. "Does she like being... one of them? I mean, not one of them, I meant just being a Slytherin?"

"I don't know…" Sharon moans through her hands. "Whenever we talk about her being in Slytherin it always ends up with us fighting. When she was first sorted… I thought she didn't like it, but now… I don't know, guys. I just- I don't."

I plop down on the bed next to Sharon and pat her on the back awkwardly, but affectionately. "You're being dumb," I tell her.

"Wow, you really know how to cheer a girl up."

"Sorry," I apologize. "But that's how dumb you're being. You haven't peaked. You're still fantastic at Charms and Care for Magical Creatures."

"Yeah," Winona agrees, smiling her soft smile at Sharon. "And between the three of us, you're definitely 'the fun one,' Sharon. Now finish getting ready. We told Ridley and Ellis we'd be at the Three Broomsticks five minutes ago; we're late."

Winona tosses Sharon her beanie; we all wear our muggle clothes since it's the weekend. I pull on my winter jacket and wrap my Gryffindor scarf (my new one, not the one Calix has) around my neck. With December approaching, the days have gotten snowier and colder. I'm beyond excited for Christmas break even though Dad's letters have been getting more and more sporadic and scatterbrained.

Two weeks ago, I got a letter that said like this:

 _Dear Velma,_

 _How's school? Good, I hope. Work has been shit. I broke one of Leigh's old broomsticks the other day; Iris was furious. Iris keeps nagging at me when I can't keep the house together. She's a real pain sometimes. Been having loads of brilliant ideas. That's why I can't keep the house together right. Truth is I can't think when the house is too put together. It clogs my thinking – that's why work has been shit. I can't think straight some days, but I think I've been getting better. You and Leigh are doing fine in school, I trust. How are your classes? Good, I hope. It's lonely at the house without you all here to nag me about my lack of cleanliness._

 _Love always,_

 _Dad_

The following week was radio silence.

Then this week I received three letters. The first one said this:

 _Dear Velma,_

 _I can't believe I almost forgot; it's Marissa's birthday this week! Make sure you tell her that Mom and I wish her happy birthday and that we love her. I'll send her a cake or a few pounds in the next few days. Can you believe your big sister is nineteen? I trust you and Leigh'll do something nice for her while you lot are at school._

 _Love, Dad_

The second letter said this:

 _Velma,_

 _I realized what the letter said as our owl left the window. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I don't know how I could've let myself slip like that. I have been getting better, but I slipped. I wish you and your brother would come home soon. I want you both to consider trying out muggle school instead of Hogwarts. That way we could all be together, like a proper family. Wouldn't that be nice? I think it'd be nice. Just think about it._

 _Love, Dad_

The third letter said this:

 _Disregard other letters that you got (unless you never got them at all, then disregard this letter too). Tell Lei-Lei to write me sometime. Lots of love, Dad._

There's no doubt in my mind that Aunt Iris has been taking care of Dad, but I know that he needs Leigh and I to visit more. Marissa, Leigh, and I were his anchors when Mom died, so when Marissa died, everything was thrown off balance. Leigh and I aren't enough to keep Dad grounded.

I close my eyes for a moment, trying to leave behind all the stress and anxiety my family brings and trying to focus on the day I'm supposed to enjoy. Supposed to enjoy. When did having a good time with my friends become something that feels like a chore?

"I should take my role as 'the fun one' more seriously," Sharon says as the three of us head out. "Vel, you've been getting gloomy a lot. You really should work on that; I think it might be contagious, and Winona, I think a few days without the stick up your ass would be good for you."

At that comment, Winona and I share another glance. We both know not to take it personally; Sharon just doesn't think before she speaks sometimes. I love Sharon, but remind myself to make Kane a shirt that says 'the funnest one' someday soon.

v

The next Monday after Defense Against the Dark Arts, I march into the Room of Requirement like any other day, but today I have a clearer incentive set in mind. Before setting my bag down or giving any casual greeting, I walk up to Ames.

"I need a favor."

"What kind of favor?" he responds, not missing a beat.

To be honest, I hadn't expected Ames to respond in such a deadpan way. I thought at least he be surprised a little bit with my straightforward tone. "An easy one," I quickly answer.

"That's what I like to hear," Ames muses as he slides his wand into his back pocket. He pushes his blonde hair to the side and looks down at me. "What's wrong, Velma?"

The expression in my eyes hardens with determination. I'll get Ames to do this even if it kills me, honestly. "Are you familiar with Darcie Whitt?" I ask him, arms crossed, shoulders square, eye contact unbreakable. "First year Slytherin?"

Ames keeps fussing with his hair. "Is that the tall black girl?"

"Yeah."

"Whose sister is Sharon Whitt?"

My mind replays all of Sharon's complaints. Is this a coincidence or proof of her point? I wiggle my toes in my boots, pausing for a bit before I answer. "Yeah."

Ames nods, "I'm familiar."

"Well, listen," I say to him, touching his forearm lightly. "Sharon's been really worried about her sister… being a Slytherin or being in Slytherin or whatever. I guess they're in a fight or not talking about it or something, but in any case... Could you keep an eye on Darcie, and just tell me if everything is alright with her?"

He jerks his arm away from me then and gets the oddest expression on his face. His mouth wound up, and his eyes squinted and looking at the ceiling. "I hadn't..." Ames forces out. He clears his throat and tries speaking again. "I hadn't realized you've told your friends about our... About us... About _this_."

"What?"

"Sharon Whitt knows?" Ames asks with a new anger, almost accusingly. He looks at me again, frustrated and borderline disappointed. "If she knows I assume Winona Hurst and Kane Long know about it then, don't they? Have you told Walt Stay as well?"

I level my anger with his, once I realize what he's assuming. "I haven't told anyone about our... _this_ ," I say, gesturing around the room. Our this. Was there anyway other way to explain whatever we were? "I'm asking you to help Sharon, but she doesn't know about it. The favor is just for me."

I watch as the frustration slows out from his face. He steps away and relaxes his body. "Oh," he breathes.

It was unexpected to see Ames have such a strong reaction, but even for Ames, a strong reaction is understandable to what he thought I had done. If the roles been reversed, and I thought he had told Dwight and Holt about the two of us, I would have lost it on Ames. There's going to have to be a point when Ames and I are either going to have to tell our friends, or they're going to find out on our own. Or we stop meeting up like this.

My head reasons that telling our friends and being honest is the best way to go. Them finding out on their own or, worse, rumors spreading about school would be terrible for everyone.

My heart convinces me that the secret should be able to stay a secret so long as Ames and I stay smart.

Both parts of me agree that either way, I don't really want to stop meeting up in here with Ames.

After I while, I clear my throat and resume our conversation. "And I suppose you don't like the kids too much, so I know that you'll want a fair sized restitution," I offer. "I don't know how many galleons I can get you, but I can help with your nonverbals or-"

"I don't want anything from you," Ames interrupts.

"Oh," I say, surprised. Favors. Friendship. Kindness? Is that where I am with Ames Fremont? "But… Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. I'll keep an eye on Darcie Whitt; it won't be hard," Ames says. "Besides, the younger students like me fine."

"Really?"

"Yeah, the first years adore me."

"You don't seem like the babysitter type," I say cautiously, unsure if my tone should be friendly or sarcastic.

"Well," Ames says slyly. "You don't actually know me all that well, do you?"

I thought of my last six years with Ames. Ames with a sulking expression off to the side on his own or surrounded by other Slytherin boys. A younger version of myself armed with at least two Gryffindors at my side or being distracted by a flashy boyfriend. I frown at Ames, "That's true, but whose fault is that?"

He frowns back at me. Really, he frowns. Not even an Ames version of a frown, he uses his whole mouth. "Maybe neither of us," he answers.

v

"Leigh," I call out to my brother during breakfast Great Hall. Leigh looks up from his plate of untouched pancakes and sees me. I signal for him to follow me, and he slowly gets up from his seat at the table and walks towards me. When he's close enough, I ruffle his hair. "You ready?" I ask. Leigh nods.

We stand under Marissa's portrait together. You'd think that this would get easier, but it doesn't. I thought the pain would eventually plateau after three years, but the slope just keeps going up. From looking at my brother and me, you'd probably think we're both really well adjusted to our situation. We're not. It's just that neither of us really like to talk about it.

I keep my eyes up at her portrait, scanning her face, hoping that there'd be something about her that I missed the last time, but of course, there isn't. "Did you see the letters Dad sent?" I ask Leigh.

"Yeah," he answers.

We both let that hang in the silence for a bit. Dad. Oh, Dad. Dad must've cried for a month straight once Leigh and I returned from the Battle of Hogwarts without Marissa. After the battle, Leigh and I had been apparated home by McGonagall and Sprout instead of taking the Hogwarts Express since we were far too young to apparate ourselves. Leigh and I had vomited after the apparition, making a bad situation worse. Aunt Iris was at my house already, having heard about the Battle of Hogwarts already. She joined our teachers when they had to break the news to Dad.

I remember it vividly. Leigh and I were sitting at the dining room table. There was a seat left open between us, where Marissa would have been sitting; Leigh and I used to fight during dinners, so she sat in the middle to keep the peace. Aunt Iris had made us macaroni and cheese, and both my brother and I spent majority of that dinner staring down at our food and poking at it.

There was soft talking at first. Then there was a crash. Then Dad was yelling.

"How could this happen?!" Leigh and I heard Dad yell. I had closed my eyes and would've covered my ears if I were able to do it without Leigh seeing. Leigh was crying, but he cried without making a sound. Tears streamed down his face, but he was too stubborn to get a tissue or wipe them away. Another crash. Dad's voice shouted, "What kind of place are you running over there?!"

"William, please it wasn't their fault," we heard Aunt Iris say to Dad.

"Not their fault? _Not their fault_?! My daughter is dead! Who the hells fault is it then?" Dad had roared. Leigh looked up at me then. Through his tear stained, eleven year old face was the meanest glare anyone could ever give their sister; Dad wanted to know who to blame, and Leigh blamed me. Leigh has always blamed me.

"I can't express how sorry I am," we heard Professor Sprout say, her voice brimming with tears. "Everyone loved Marissa. _Everyone_ just adored her. I myself am feeling the pain of her death, so I can't even begin to imagine the suffering you must be going through."

"Well, what the hell am I supposed to do? What do I do? Do I… Oh, God. What are we supposed to do without Marissa? How are we supposed to get by without Marissa? Oh my God…" Dad was spiraling. "I don't understand how could have this have happened."

Dad's voice dissolved into sobs and shouts of anger, and Leigh and I just sat there. I was ashamed to find myself embarrassed for Dad. Crying like a child in front of McGonagall and Sprout. What were they going to think about Leigh and myself after seeing our Dad like that?

"How'd you react to his letters?" I ask Leigh, turning away from Marissa's portrait to look at him. Aw, Leigh. Baby bro, little Lei-Lei, my shit little brother. Wavy dark hair and too bright, too awake grey eyes. A sincere smile akin to Marissa's. Brave and stubborn and enthusiastic.

Leigh shrugs at me, still facing Marissa, feigning indifference. "I mean I'm not that worried about Dad making us go to muggle school. Dad's dad. When we go back home for Christmas, he'll snap back," he says. "The letter with Mom and Marissa was… less than great, but, you know, it's not like Dad can help it, so whatever." I frown at him, even though he refuses to look at me. I know he's lying. Thatcher, one of Leigh's closest friends, told me that Leigh had skipped a class and cried for an hour after he read the letter about Marissa's birthday. I can't say that I'm disappointed in Leigh for not opening up to me; it would be hypocritical of me if I were.

I press my lips together, but decide not to say anything. We stare up at Marissa's portrait together. Marissa loved making wishes on her birthday candles, and even though she always told us what she wished for, they always still seemed to come true for her.

v

"I think she's happy," Ames says to me as the door to the Room of Requirement disappear.

"Who?" I ask. "Darcie?" Ames nods. I frown down at my books, but nod as well. "Good," I say. "That's… It's good."

Ames frowns at me. He strides over and sits down on the floor next to me, something he's never done before. "Well, don't sound too excited, Velma," he scoffs. "What's wrong? I thought you'd want to be able to report to Sharon Whitt that her little sister is happy."

"I do!" I respond defensively. I feel my feet start to sweat, maybe from both the Darcie situation and the fact that Ames has never sat this close to me in our six years of knowing each other. My eyes close and my chin tilts up to the sky. "It's just…" I sigh. "I think part of Sharon wants her sister to be unhappy there. I think it's partially because her sister just caused all this tension in her family, but… Sharon also just didn't want her sister to like the Slytherins, you know? The whole, 'you were wrong, and I was right' thing or maybe she was holding out hope that the Sorting Hat was wrong. That Darcie isn't one of them."

My eyes reopen and I glance at Ames, only to find him staring at me. He quickly averts his gaze down. His hands stay folded in his lap with his legs outstretched in front of him; even just in his sitting position, Ames has found a way to make himself look indifferent and completely in control. "One of them…" he repeats in a whisper. Ames closes his eyes and shakes his head. A blush spreads throughout my body. What kind of insensitive person am I to have actually said that? Ames sighs, "I know you and all your friends don't like Slytherins. We all know, but you-"

"I didn't mean you," I quickly interject. At the last moment, I catch myself from saying _you're not_ that _kind of Slytherin_ , but isn't he 'that kind of Slytherin'? He's Ames Fremont: the eerie Slytherin who was practicing Dark Magic in the Room of Requirement. Someone who I'd previously thought to be callous and shallow and arrogant, but what did I make of him now? Definitely none of my previous assumptions. Creative? Kind? An enigma?

That boy with the blonde hair and blue eyes who helped me survive the Battle of Hogwarts?

"You meant me. When you say 'Slytherin' you mean me," he says, running a hand through his hair and his voice giving off hints of anger. "But even you, at least part of you, has to admit… I'm not terrible. We've shared this dusty room together for a few weeks, and for the most part you haven't wanted to kill me.

"And I know Dwight, Holt, Renata, and the rest of that lot can be a handful at times," he continues. "But your so-called perfect Gryffindors have flaws. Lorelei Malecot is a God awful nightmare, and I know she's your friend, but Sharon Whitt can be annoying. Ridley Furstenberg is a cheat, and your boyfriend, Kane Long? He's even more of a hothead than-"

"Excuse me?" I exclaim, more shock than disdain in my voice. Ames listing the flaws and faults of the people I consider my family is more than enough of a reason to get mad at him, but he's accurate on most accounts. Besides, my focus is on a different topic. "What did you say about Kane and me?"

"Oh…" Ames mutters. He coughs, "I thought… Um, never mind."

I turn to face Ames more directly and tilt my head at him, "Um? You thought what?" He everts his eyes again and looks down in his lap.

"It's really nothing, but I just… just thought you and Kane Long were…" he trails off as he rises from his position on the ground. He takes a few steps away from me before awkwardly pacing back and forth.

"… Ames?" I ask after a beat.

He looks back to me, his eyes slightly crinkled. Ever since Ames's whole 'feel, don't show' speech, I've found myself taking note of (what passes as) all the expressions on his face. Slight crinkle of eyes. Confusion? Surprise? Ames clears his throat. "I just thought you guys were a thing," he mumbles. Maybe embarrassment?

"A thing?" I say, half teasingly, half serious.

"Yeah, I thought you guys were dating," he answers. I give him a questioning look. Ames looks at me sheepishly, but continues, "What? I see you guys all the time together."

"Kane and I are just really good friends," I clarify.

"Then what about Winona Hurst and Walt Stay?" Ames asks.

I groan loudly. " _Officially_ they're not together, but everyone wants them to date. I'm hoping it's only a matter of time before they're together. If even you've noticed them, Ames, they're just wasting time at this point."

Ames nods in agreement. "I thought he was dating Lorelei Malecot for a bit," he says. He corners of his mouth turn up just enough to make a recognizable smile. "Your friend is a step up."

"Thanks," I respond, with a soft, unsure grin. "I would return the favor by engaging in some Year Two-esque gossip, but I don't keep tabs on which Slytherin is interested who. I mean, besides you and Renata." He nods at me, but goes back to pacing. I stand up and walk over to him. "If- If you don't mind me asking, what did actually happen between the two of you?" I ask.

He glances at me. For a moment, I think he's looking at me dismissively, but remember _this is Ames_. He snatches his wand from his back pocket and examines it instead of making eye-contact. "I mean, what went around school has some truth to it," he admits. "Watching her flirt with Walt Stay probably infuriated me as much as it infuriated your friend."

"But you guys stayed together after a good amount of flirting time before you broke up," I say to him. Ames idly swishes his wand around, humming under his breath, causing swirls of light to appear. I stand near him, watching him and waiting for an answer.

"There were outside circumstances that… made it kind of inappropriate of me to break up with her," Ames says softly. "Even when I did break up with her I probably shouldn't have."

 _Slytherin_. A small part of my brain reminds me. Ambition. What would he have to gain by staying with her? I take a moment before talking, but go against my instinct and refrain from being rude. "Well," I say awkwardly. "Um, I think you're a step up from Renata… or a step up whoever Renata dates next." Ames stops focusing on his wand and looks at me funny. I rock back and forth on my feet and feel my feet sweat. "Um," I clear my throat. "I'm trying to compliment you."

"I got that," he nods. "I just think it's kind of funny seeing you get nervous." He grins at me. "But really, Renata wasn't bad."

Not that bad, hah. Renata's always had something against me. She's always been horrible to me. Always. Last week. Last week had been bad.

I was sitting in the stadium of the Quidditch pitch, watching the Quidditch practice. Ellis was back to perfection (apart from a clicking in his jaw that he wouldn't stop complaining about) and soaring about, shouting at all the players. Kane practiced with Finn to send the bludgers flying, and Winona and the other Chasers flew around practicing new formations.

I was sitting in the stadium of the Quidditch pitch when Renata and her friends took a seat behind me a few bleachers back. I twisted around in my seat to glare at them. "You guys can't be here," I said. "Other teams can't watch."

Renata rolled her eyes at me and waved her hand dismissively. "We're just waiting for our practice to start, Velma. Just calm down, alright?" she said condescendingly. I realized she was right. Ellis and the others were finishing up their practice, and the girls with Renata, Violet and Marie, are chasers on their Quidditch team. My cheeks burned red and I faced myself forward again.

At that point, I could've just moved seats. I could've just left the stadium all together, and it probably would've been easier for me in the long run, but even something as trivial as a gesture like changing seats felt like retreating to me. The last thing I wanted to do was give Renata the satisfaction of scaring me off, so in all my Gryffindor pride and stubbornness, I stayed where I was.

I'd estimate that it took Renata and her friends about 45 seconds to start bothering me again.

"Hey!" Marie had called out to me. "Velma, your brother is Leigh, right?" I gritted my teeth and turned back around to them. I frowned at Marie. She was a sixth year, which made her a year behind me and two years older than Leigh. With shoulder length, shiny black hair and brown, almond shaped eyes, Marie was the kind of person that even I couldn't deny that she was pretty, no matter how much I hated her. "He is," I managed to say through my clenched teeth.

"He is _so_ cute!" Marie had exclaimed. Marie smiled at me with a false sincerity. Violet smirked at my obvious discomfort, but didn't say anything. Meanwhile, Renata just wouldn't shut the hell up.

"Yeah, your brother is _so_ normal, Velma!" Renata had jeered. "You'd never think that someone like him could be related to you!"

"Wow, Renata," I said, forcing out a laugh. I stood up from my spot and grabbed my wand. "It's almost like you _want_ me to start a fight with you! Would you prefer it to just be you who I hex, or do you want your little lapdogs to me part of it as well?"

"No really, Velma!" Renata continued in her sarcastic, condescending voice. She stood up as well and began stepping down the bleachers towards me. "How'd you end up so screwed up when your brother ended up so normal? Isn't your dad bat-shit crazy? You think it'd be genetic or something, right?"

The mention of my Dad had hit me almost as hard as the mention of my 'loser Hufflepuff sister' Renata had said to me in the beginning of the year. Renata can do things like that; she can strike you right where she knows you're the weakest. Dad. Am I crazy like Dad? God, Dad. What would be worse in this situation: to lie and convince myself that Dad isn't crazy, or to condemn him and convince myself that I'm nothing like him?

"There's no way Leigh is fully blood related to you, right?" Renata had continued relentlessly. "I mean, Leigh's so cute and you look like… _you_. Let me guess. Different Dads, same Mom? Was Mommy a whore while she was still alive, Velma? Is that how it happened?"

" _Shit, Renata_. _Taking a shot at my dead mom too? Talk about kicking a horse while it's down_ ," I had thought to myself. I became really numb in that moment. The only alternative to numbness in a situation like this is crying, and I really did not want to cry in front of Renata, but I did let myself cry all that night once everyone else was asleep.

"Velma!" Winona shouted, coming up the stairs. She reached us, but her smile instantly disappeared when she saw Renata, Marie, and Violet. "Velma… and others, I suppose," she said. "Are they bothering you, Vel?"

Now that Winona was with me emotion started creeping back into my brain, but instead of sadness, only hatred filled me. Renata. There's no one I've ever hated more than Renata. "Yeah," I nodded. "Renata's being a real bitch."

"Listen, Caplan!" Renata said angrily as she took another step down closer to us. "If you think you are-"

"Stop!" Winona had shouted. I stood up next to Winona and when I did, Winona put a death grip on my arm, ensuring that I wouldn't grab my wand. "We don't really have time for this today, Renata."

Renata's focus left me and landed right on Winona. "Hey Winona," Renata purred, her eyes narrowing. "You and Walt Stay bang yet?"

At that, I was ready to destroy Renata, but the death grip Winona had on my arm force me to stay put. With an elegance and poise of a princess, Winona stood her ground against Renata, but I could feel the indignation and resentment radiating off of her. I had imagined how this confrontation would have gone if Kane were to walk over. Even if both Winona and I had death grips on his wrists, Kane would have exploded long ago.

Winona held her head up high. "I don't think it's your place at all to speak to me like that," she seethed.

"I take it that's a no," Renata had laughed, which prompted Violet and Marie to laugh as well. "It makes sense though," Renata sneered. "The only thing flatter than your hair is your chest."

Winona's fingers dug deeper into my arm, and I bit my tongue to keep from crying out in pain. I had glanced up at Winona. Her eyes are a shade of brown so dark you can't differentiate her pupil from her iris, and when she stared at Renata I finally understood the idiom 'glaring daggers'. "I think it's time for you all to go," Winona practically spat.

Violet and Marie had glanced at Renata, obviously unsure of what to do. Renata merely laughed at us, "Why? Is Kane Long on his way over? Are you two going to have him get rid of us for you?"

"Do you really think that Velma and I need Kane to fight our battles?" Winona said back, still holding her in control voice. "If the two of us were to start a fight right now, I'd be _very_ worried about you three," Winona warned gravely. "I think it's time for you to go."

Renata looked Winona over. Renata stood stiffly as did Violet and Marie, all three of them clearly shaken by Winona's threat. A tense laugh escaped Renata's lips and she fought to keep her voice nonchalant. "If you insist, Winnie," Renata said as she moved out of the bleachers with Violet and Marie trailing close behind. "I'll see you both later."

"Tell your brother I say hi, Velma!" Marie called over her shoulder as they made their way down the stairs. Winona released my arm, and relief flooded through me.

The memory fills me with anger. "Seriously?!" I ask Ames indignantly. "She's been bitch to you and me both."

"Don't," Ames says harshly to me. "She has her reasons and I know her-"

"She consistently flirted with other guys right in front of you," I argue, stepping towards him again. I feel all animosity I've had for Renata rising up my chest. "She treats me like shit. She's said disgusting things to me, taking digs at my sister, at my family-"

"Don't act like your friends don't take digs at our families."

"God, we're not talking about my friends, Ames!" I shout at him. "We're talking about Renata, who I hate and you should hate too."

"Renata has issues."

"We _all_ have issues, Ames," I hiss. "That excuse is cliché and meaningless."

He looks up at me, sincere blue eyes and tight mouth. "Just because we all have pain," he says to me, something glimmering in his eyes, "doesn't mean it's negated for anyone."

The bell in the tower rings.

I take a staggered step away from Ames and feel the mood between us fall. The mood dissolves as fast as the light from one of Ames's singing spells. "You can leave first," I say quietly. "I'll wait a few minutes after."

Ames's eyes linger on mine for a moment, his entire face unsure. I smile faintly at him, and he gives me the Ames-equivalent of a smile back.


	11. Lavender and Hydrangeas

**Chapter Eleven** **–** **Lavender and Hydrangeas**

"Fairy wings," Winona orders as she sticks her hand out. Through my daydream, I sprinkle a pinch of the translucent wings into her palm. Winona crushes the wings in her hand before tossing them into our shared cauldron. I'm glad Slughorn let us work in pairs today; if I had to work on my own, I wouldn't have any thinking time.

I can't quite tell if Ames speaks in codes or if he just likes talking in circles around me. Maybe he just likes talking in circles to avoid actually saying anything to me; I couldn't blame him for that. Couldn't I? I'm not entirely certain if Ames and I are what one would call… friends. You would think that at this point Ames and I would have gotten to a place of a clearer friendship by now. Is it so unclear because he's a Slytherin?

Of course it's because he's a Slytherin.

The transition between partners during Defense Against the Dark Arts and acquaintances (maybe friends) in the Room of Requirement is always odd. We're always so hostile during class. I think I'm harsher on Ames when we're partners only because I know that people are watching us. What would they say if they saw the two of us laughing and talking like friends? When Kane and Dwight are at each other's throats, and when Holt makes Winona miserable, how could I let my best friends see me cozying up with Ames?

Something lightly taps me on the back of my head. My back instantly straightens and I turn around embarrassed to see Professor Slughorn behind me. "I let everyone work in groups today because Amortentia is a hard potion, Ms. Caplan," Slughorn says. He gives me a disappointed smile, which might be worse than a scowl. Even though Slughorn is the Head of Slytherins, I've always like him, but I sometimes think he's only aware of me because I'm Winona's best friend. He sighs, "It was intended that you all assist each other, not to have you sit around and hand Ms. Hurst the ingredients."

"Winona doesn't need my help," I counter. "In fact, she says I don't stir the potions correctly. I'd be doing her a disservice if I helped her."

"That's true," Winona nods. "Velma hasn't got a bit patience."

Professor Slughorn's tense smile eases after Winona speaks. "Well, Ms. Winona," he says. "So long that you don't mind Ms. Caplan getting her score based on your work, by all means, continue."

Once Slughorn has moved away from our seats, I kick Winona on her shin. "I have patience," I argue.

"You don't," she answers, tucking a strand of blonde hair back into her bun. "You stir too fast. That's why your potions always come out too thin."

"I would've helped you with the Amortentia if you had _asked_."

"I doubt it," she laughs. Winona stops stirring our cauldron for a moment to give me a frank look. "You know, Velma, if you tried harder in this class, you probably would've been invited into the Slug Club. Your status as 'Harry Potter's favorite student' qualifies you for it. Slughorn just thinks you're lazy."

I roll my eyes. I was disappointed when I hadn't been invited to Slughorn's Christmas party, but at least I wasn't embarrassingly livid like Kane had been. Kane had stomped around the common room when Winona had mentioned that she had gotten an invitation to the party.

"Who does Slughorn think he is?!" Kane had shouted. "I'm great! I'm fantastic! I'm going to be famous one day, and he'll _regret_ not inviting Kane Alastair Long into the Slug Club!"

"You? What'll you be famous for?" I had asked, mainly out of curiosity.

"Quidditch, divination," Kane listed off. "Having great hair, or-"

"Being jackass?" I interrupted.

"Maybe I'll be famous for the murder of Velma Caplan," Kane had hissed back.

Winona stood up in between us. "Will you two stop?" she sighed. "Honestly, you're acting undignified, Kane. It's _just_ a party."

Suddenly, the smell of buttered popcorn pulls me out of my memory. I close my eyes and inhale deeply. Buttered popcorn that's just been popped in our microwave back home. Movie nights with my whole family while eating buckets and buckets of popcorn.

"Well, judging by your face, I'd say that I made the Amortentia correctly," I hear Winona say. My eyes open slowly, and I look to see Winona grinning at me while pinching her nose shut. I give her a questioning look. "Amortentia smells terrible if you do it wrong," she explains. "I figured the least you could do for me was be the guinea pig."

I scooch my stool away from our cauldron, as to not get distracted by the changing scents it's exuding. "Smell it, Win," I encourage her. "Tell me about what yours is."

"I smell... Freshly chopped mint... And steak and apple pie... God, it's making me hungry. And I smell..." Winona trails off. Her eyebrows furrow. "Something else. What is that?"

"Well, describe it."

"Soapy," Winona offers, inhaling deeply. "Almost chemically, but not in a bad way. It smells… sticky almost. It's really familiar. It's nice. It smells like it's trying to smell like coconut. Like something really artificial."

"Maybe it's some coconut soap."

"No… I don't think it's soap, but I…" Winona's voice trails off and her eyes snap open in surprise. But before I can ask her what she's realized, Kane is barreling towards us. He crashes in to me with his hands on my shoulders. "Did you guys finish?" he asks.

"Yes, we did," I answer, nodding.

"Yes, _I_ did," Winona corrects me. She moves away from the cauldron, her shoulders tense and her cheeks pink. I wonder what she smelled. Winona grabs Kane by the arm and brings him in front of the cauldron. "Go on, smell it, Kane. What's it like for you?"

He eagerly puts his face toward the potion, almost sticking his head into it. Kane grins, "It smells like an ocean breeze or maybe like, like pine trees. And it smells like the world after it's just rained. Yeah... and it smells like my grandma's house."

"What does your grandma's house smell like?" I ask.

"Like the best xiaolongbao you've ever had."

"What about you, Velma?" Winona prompts me. "What do you smell?"

"It smells like Kane's grandma's house," I answer, pretending to waft the Amorentia towards me.

"Very funny," Kane says to me, unamused. He moves away from the cauldron and signals for me to take his spot. "C'mon, Vel," he says. "Go smell it."

Reluctantly, I close my eyes and smell the purple and blue potion. Immediately I feel like I've just landed nose first in a meadow full of lavender. I smile, but feel something heavy land on my heart. Lavender is one of my scents because Marissa and Mom used to grow lavender in our front yard. It was their special project, to border our fence with lavender. Mom died before she could see all the lavender blossom and before she could smell how good it made everything smell. Marissa kept the garden alive once Mom was gone, but when Marissa died there was no one to keep the lavender alive.

The winter break of my fifth year, only six months after Marissa died, was when Leigh and I had noticed that Aunt Iris and Dad weren't paying attention to the lavender. The two of us had walked back from the train station since Aunt Iris had work and Dad couldn't leave the house. The lavender wasn't dead yet; there was just enough purple still there to be noticeable.

"What do we do about the lavender?" Leigh had asked me.

Leigh, obviously wanting some reassurance, looked up at me hopefully. I didn't want him to see me sad, so all I could manage to do was glare at him. "I don't know, Leigh," I had hissed at him. Leigh was only twelve at the time and was still shorter than me. He withered under my glare. "We let the flowers die."

My little brother rocked back and forth on his feet. His curly bangs hung low in his eyes. "You don't think you can fix them?" he asked me meekly. I always hated it when Leigh talked to me like that. Scared and like a little kid. Like the way he would talk to Mom or Marissa. If he talked to me like that, then he expected me to help him, and somedays nothing hurt me more than knowing that I couldn't.

"I'm not about to do any underage magic," I respond harshly to Leigh. "I can't fix it, Leigh. Marissa never taught me how."

I hold onto the scent of the lavender and try to let go of the bad associations that go along with it. Hold onto the good ones. Mom and Marissa gardening, and Leigh and I play in the yard while Dad cooks.

I inhale again. Buttered popcorn. I feel like I'm ten again, standing in front of the microwave with Leigh and listening to the popcorn pop. I feel like I'm wedged in between Leigh and Marissa watching muggle movies with our cousins sitting around us as well.

The smell shifts to something I don't recognize. It's something that I can't find the words to describe, like trying to teach a blind person colors. It smells old, but not in an unpleasant way. Old in a dusty, ancient way. Something warm rises in my chest, and I become oddly aware of every nerve on my body. It's not a familiar smell, but smells like something that's always been there. The warm feeling continues to spread across my chest, almost as if a flower just bloomed from out of my heart.

I open my eyes to see Kane and Winona looking at me expectantly. "Lavender. Also buttered popcorn," I tell them, "and something else."

"Try to describe it," Winona says to me.

I rack my brain for the words that would do this smell justice. "It smells like seeing fireworks for the first time," I say with a small smile on my face. My voice grows faster with every word, the smell becoming more and more familiar. "It smells like color of sunsets, and it smells like the way freshly fallen snow looks, right before anyone's stepped through it. It smells like sunshine hitting you while you're playing outside."

Kane scrunches up his face at me. "You know that you're not making _any_ sense at the moment, right?" he asks.

"I know," I answer, still smiling.

v

As much as I've grown accustomed to talking with Ames in the Room of Requirement, somedays I make a special effort not to talk to him. Not out of anger or spite, but to allow him to practice his singing spells. I try to tell myself that I let him practice because this _is_ our studying time after all, but I know that I always make the extra effort because I like watching his spells fly about the room. The spells that Ames casts are like nothing I've ever seen before. No matter what the spell, when Ames sings they come out in bright colors and in big flurries of movement that spiral in different directions.

I stand leaning against the wall closest to Ames. He stands with his shoulders back and a focused, stoic expression on his face. He always stands like this before he starts singing. I look him over. Ames never takes off his robes or jacket unless he's practicing his spells. It's obvious that Ames is skinny, but if you look at him without the large robe or jacket on you can see that he's not _that_ skinny. With just the white button up on, Ames looks thin, but not frail.

When we were younger Ames had been the kind of skinny that made it look like it'd be easy to push down, which is exactly what Kane and Ridley liked to do. On top of that, Ames was short at the time, making him an even easier target for the boys to shove around. However, somewhere around our fourth year, Ames grew into his height and would've been lanky, but seemed to have made an extra effort to gain muscle mass. It was around that time when Ames started catching girls' eyes. Girls like Renata Santo, with her annoyingly perfect curvy-strong body and pretty eyes. More girls from other houses probably would've been interested in Ames's pale blue eyes and swept blonde hair if he weren't so… _Slytherin._

Ames hums something and his humming slowly turns into the words of a spell that I can't recognize. A dark golden light starts to stream out from his wand, swirling around him in a circle. Ames's voice grows louder and more powerful with each word. The spell suddenly shoots upwards and bursts on the ceiling. Specks of light land in both of our hair. I look up to see the room lit up by a brilliant ball of light. A weather changing spell. A weather changing spell to make sunlight.

Ames looks up at the ceiling, the artificial sun lighting up his face. He stares up at the sun seemingly indifferently, but I see the looseness in his shoulders and the tug at the corner of his mouth. He's pleased with himself. He looks away from the sun at me; his pupils are still tiny from the bright light, making the light blue stand out. The quarter smile stays on his face. "You're leering," he says.

"I'm not," I retort defensively, feeling a blush rise up in my cheeks. "I'm… observing." Ames gives me a smug look. I roll my eyes and point my wand to the ceiling. " _Meteolojinx Recanto_ ," I cast, and the sunlight in the room fades away. I hold eye contact with Ames and watch as his pupils started to dilate. I tilt my head at him. "I just can't figure out how you do these spells."

"It's the same spell you learned," he answers, shrugging. "You could probably do them just as well. Faster and without speaking, I might add."

"Maybe, but the things you do are so powerful," I say, taking a few steps towards him. "How do you make your spells like that? I've tried singing them, and nothing even happens for me."

"It's not important how I did. What's important is that I can." Ames turns away from me at that, leaving me standing there like an idiot. He turns away from me, seemingly thinking that answer is enough. To be fair, usually I would settle for that answer. Usually I would sigh at his 'Ames-answer' and move on in my studying, but not today. I'm through with the dismissive way he talks to me all the time.

"Why do you always talk like that?" I snap at him.

Ames turns around. His eyebrows are almost raised, making his version of a surprised expression. "Like what?"

"In circles," I say exasperated. There is no way he isn't aware of the way he talks to me. "Like you're always finding a way to end our conversation before you really say anything."

"I don't do that," he argues.

"Yes, you do!" I exclaim, taking another step toward him. I let out a deep breath. "The mysterious act has gotten kind of old, Ames."

Ames raises his hands, like he's going to continue arguing with me, but then he looks at me. He really looks at me. He sees the anger and frustration in my face. He sees all the emotion that, unlike him, I'm not afraid to show. Ames drops his hands and sighs. "You won't like what you see," he says, staring at his feet, "if you get too close."

I almost laugh at him. Absurd. Confusing. Still mysterious. "That's not true," I say.

"It is," he retorts, a sliver of anger escaping through his voice. "Trust me. Velma, you shouldn't-"

"No, Ames," I persist. "Let me try. Just… let me try."

Ames scrunches one side of his face slightly, seemingly debating. After a moment, he lets out a breath through his nose. "Alright," he finally answers, moving to sit against the wall.

I follow him and sit with him. I leave a foot of space in between us, like I'm trying not to scare him off. It's as if he's a wild animal I'm trying to approach and domesticate. "How'd you learn to sing your spells?" I ask.

"Desperation mixed with trial and error," Ames replies quickly. He keeps his eyes shut and his head tilted against the wall.

"That wasn't so bad," I tease. Ames's eyes stay shut, but he nods almost as if he's in pain. "Can I ask you more questions?"

He hesitates. "I wouldn't."

"It won't even be about you, but you have to answer honestly," I urge him. His eyes slowly open again and Ames watches me out of the corner of his eye. Maybe he's not a wild animal. Maybe he's a butterfly that's landed on me, making me scared to move, or else he'll float away. Ames nods. "Why does Renata hate me?"

"Oh…" Ames breathes, messing with his hair. How can he always talk like that? Not monotone, yet so unfeeling? "It's complicated, but… in short, it's my fault."

"How?"

"It's always been…" Ames tries. His voice falters, and his face contorts into what must be a grimace for him. "You've always been _you_ , Velma, you know?"

I feel my heart pound in my chest and heat rise up in my cheeks. "Oh…" I manage to make myself say, forcing the syllable out.

Neither of us say anything then. He looks away from me again, and my mind focuses in on his eyes. You could call them baby blue, but that makes his eyes sound gentle. Ames's eyes are hard and steely, like he's always bracing himself for the worst. Light, powdery blue. Not quite bright enough to be sky blue. Maybe it could be sky blue on a cloudy day.

He turns to make eye contact with me, and I go against every reaction in my body and keep the eye contact. His cloudy sky blue locking with my stainless steel gray. "What are you thinking right now?" he asks me quietly.

"Aren't I supposed to be asking you that?" I answer. I smirk at him and the corner of his lips twitch in response. "I'm thinking of other questions I can ask you." I hesitate, but slowly pull my necklace from out of my shirt. At the end of my necklace is a thin vial filled with the blue and purple Amorentia. "Easy question," I say, removing the cap of the vial. I hold it near Ames. "Smell it."

"That's not a question," Ames responds, looking at the liquid tentatively. "What is it?"

"Amortentia. Winona brewed it during class," I say. Ames gives me a pointed look and I roll my eyes. "I'm not planning on using it on anyone," I quickly explain. "I just… I wear it because I like to smell it. C'mon, Ames, you try."

"I've never smelt Amorentia before…" Ames admits, staring down at the vial uncertainly.

"All the more reason to do it now."

He takes the small vial from my hands. I watch him carefully. Ames inhales, and I feel a tug at my heart when his face lights up. Ames beams. "It smells like…" he begins. Ames's smile goes wobbly, like he's attempting, but failing to conceal that he can actually smile. "It smells like my first violin. I can smell parchment paper and cookies baking. And… and there's Mother's hydrangeas." The smile falls from his face. He swallows hard, and I can't help but remember how it felt to smell my mom's lavenders. His voice drops to a whisper, "I forgot what those smelt like…"

Ames slowly passes the vial back to me. As I secure my necklace around me, I keep my eyes on him. His already pale face seems lacking in even more color. His shoulders are slumped and he sits with an unusual dejected looseness.

My head tells me that Ames obviously doesn't want to be bothered by any of… _this_ any longer.

My heart tells me that if I want answers, now is the time to get them. _Now_ is the time that Ames is open.

"How many more questions do I get?" I ask him softly.

Ames considers this question. He stares up at the ceiling, his jaw tense and eyes clear. His hand stays so solidly between us. I reach my hand over to his, but just close enough to where our pinkies touch. It's such an insignificant motion, but I feel a warm tenseness spread through my body from such a taboo touch. I could pretend that touching him was an accident. I could've pretended that I was uninterested in him. I could've avoided the Room of Requirement all together. I really could've.

Ames releases a deep sigh, "Less than it'll take to scare you away."

"This'll be the last one," I promise. I take a deep breath and feel my entire body tense up as I ask my question. "What will you tell me about your mother?"

Ames's face stays calm, but he suddenly jerks his hand away from mine. "I'm a lot like her."

"Not that much," I argue.

"You don't know, Velma."

"Well, obviously I _want_ to know!" I shout exasperated. Ames stares straight at the wall across from us as he slowly lowers his hand back down. This time he rests his hand completely over mine; it practically lights my entire arm on fire. I should hate Ames; I really should. Slytherins and Gryffindors. Hasn't the relationship between the two houses already been decided by predestination? Aren't we supposed to hate each other? My mind reels to think of anything else to think about instead of Ames Fremont's hand on mine. I can only think of one thing. "Did she want you to kill me that night?" I hear myself ask in a voice much more timid than my own.

I can't bring myself to look at Ames, so I look down at his hand instead. Every muscle in his hand seems tense as if he's actively forcing himself to touch my hand gently. Maybe what he's doing isn't out of kindness or fondness for me, but out of pity for me. "I thought you said the other one was the last question," Ames says, his voice strained.

Tears prick at my eyes, but I force them away. That night. Everything about _that night_ makes me feel so inferior and weak. "Ames…" I say to him in a coaxing voice. "You said that you'd be honest."

He sits in silence for a beat. "She did."

I don't know how to feel about his response. Betrayal? Relief? Horror? "We were fourteen," I whisper, my voice shaking. I turn to look at him. "Ames…"

"I told you," he almost laughs. I feel his hand quivering over mine. "It's not good when you get close."

"You don't get to decide that for me," I retort.

At that, Ames finally turns back to me. His face is so close to mine. Half of his face, at least. His chin juts out towards me, but he tilts his head away from me, making himself into an odd contradiction. A tuft of blonde hair has fallen out of place and onto his forehead. I slide my hand out from under his to reach up and brush it back into place. His forehead tilts towards me.

"Do you think about that night a lot?" I ask.

He shudders and closes his eyes. "Too often," he answers.

"Me too," I whisper. I see his hand still resting on the ground between us. I could lay my hand on his. I think of how warm his hand was and how nice it felt.

I put my hand in my lap.


	12. Lover (of Deviled Eggs)

**Chapter Twelve** **–** **Lover (of Deviled Eggs)**

"Velma, hey!" someone calls out to me.

I look up from the plant that Walt and I are taking notes on. Calix Clyne is heading over towards us. Although a nervousness grows inside of me at the sight of him, I think my 'Calix situation' has improved greatly; I'm a lot more comfortable around him now. Walt's foot nudges me from under the table; I glance up at him, and he gives me a pointed look. Before Walt can say anything, I call back to him, "Hey Calix," as casually as I can.

Calix leans against our Herbology table, his easy smile directed at me. I grin back at him, but can't help but notice Walt from the corner of my eye. You have to really know Walt to be able to tell when he looks brooding because of his general facial features, or he looks brooding because he is actually brooding. But if you notice Walt's low hanging eyebrows and pressed together mouth, it's obvious that this is one of the rare times when Walt is actually deep in thought.

Calix notices me scanning Walt's expression. He gives Walt a once over, and I can practically see Calix writing out the equation, trying to figure out if Walt is serious. "And… hey, Walt," Calix greets him in a nervous, but neutral tone.

"Hi," Walt responds dismissively.

"Vels," Calix says, his smile focused back to me, "let's talk for a second."

"Um… Okay," I agree as I slide off of my stool.

"Velma, shouldn't we be finishing this up?" Walt interjects. His voices brims with insinuating caution. He looks at me with a tense jaw and dark eyes; Walt was never a fan of Calix, even before I had dated him.

"Calix Clyne?" Walt had questioned me. It early last year, and I had just passingly mentioned that Calix and I were an item. "You're dating Calix Clyne?"

"I hope you're not jealous, Walt," I had teased him. "It'd be dreadful to have to tell Winona."

"I'm not jealous," Walt had quickly responded, not acknowledging my quip about Winona. "I just don't see you and Calix together, and I don't want to see you get hurt." Despite being annoyed, I had smiled at him. I knew he meant well. Walt has always had a tendency to be authoritative and big brotherly to me, even though I'm a few months older than he is. In the end, he was right, of course. Walt is usually right.

"It'll only be a second, Stay," Calix laughs. "I just need to talk to her; I'll bring her back, I promise." Walt gives me a disapproving frown, but I ignore him and go off with Calix. We walk away a bit towards a little private corner. Calix grins at me again, but this time I see a little unease in his smile. "So I just want you to know that if I cross any boundaries right now, tell me. If I go any bit too far over whatever line we've drawn in our friendship, tell me and I'll stop talking," he says. I nod. "I need a favor."

I blink a few times, thrown by how similar Calix sounds to myself asking Ames for a favor. Calix and I really are alike; maybe that's why we would never have been able to last. "A favor?"

Calix rubs the back of his neck, but keeps his smile in place. "Yeah, so, the Slug Club's Christmas party is coming up, and… you and I seem like we've been in a really good place, so I was wondering if… you'd come with me." My eyes widen. "It's too far over that line, isn't it?"

"Well, I mean…" I sputter, unable to think clearly. Calix's hazel-green eyes stare at me, unsure. His broad shoulders are tense, and he has the cutest smile on. "Don't tell me I'm your first choice. What happened between you and Bay?"

"Oh, Bay and I had a relationship that was more… what's the word? Casual, I suppose. She's seeing someone else," Calix explains. His cute smile abruptly drops from his face. "Oh, God," he says quickly. "You're not seeing someone else, are you? Christ, I didn't even think of that."

"No!" I exclaim, even though I'm a bit hurt that me having a new boyfriend seemed so impossible to him. My feet sweat, and I try to hide my grimace with a sweet smile. "No, I don't- Um, I've been busy, you know."

Calix's smile returns to his face. "Good, but anyway, Vels, what are you thinking?" he asks hopefully. He gently places a hand on my shoulder. "For old time's sake?"

"I…" I begin, but trail off. I hear Kane's nagging voice telling me to not be such an idiot. I hear Winona's voice gently reminding me to take care of myself. I hear my own voice saying that _this is a bad idea_. "Sure," I blurt out, surprising myself. Goddamn it. Why don't I have a backbone when it comes to Calix? "That sounds great."

"Fantastic. One last time, right?" he says excitedly. I feel a frenzied emotion pool up in my stomach and manage to nod at him. Calix nods back. "Well, I should let you go. Stay is giving me quite the glare."

I spin around and glance at Walt. He stares at us from our workstation, all dark eyes and smoldering expression. I make an obnoxious face at him, and Walt goes back to staring at our plant. "Sorry," I apologize to Calix as I begin to head back to our table. "But, yes. Definitely. I look forward to it."

"Velma," he calls after me. I spin around and am nearly blinded by his shining smile. "Wear your purple robes."

I let out an embarrassingly girlish giggle, and Calix tilts his head at me with a smile that makes me feel adorable. Ah, Calix. I've missed him. Suddenly, I became aware of Walt staring at me, a mix of amusement and disappointment on his face. "Wow," he says.

"I know what you're thinking," I begin to argue, turning on my stool to face Walt, "but this is going to be harmless."

He prods me with the pointed end of his quill. "Velma, you know how most people learn from their mistakes? Are you not one of those people? Do you not have a brain?"

"It'll be a fun time," I refute, swatting him away.

"Vel-"

"Don't be worried!" I say exasperatedly, trying to convince Walt just as much as I try to convince myself. "You'll be at the party anyway, right? You and Winona can be my sponsors. That reminds me, did you ever get the nerve to take Winona to the party?"

"I can see you spinning the conversation away from your issues."

Walt, of course, is correct. I shrug at him. "Answer anyway. I genuinely want to know."

"Well," he answers slowly, "for your information I did ask Winona if she wanted to attend Slughorn's party together."

"And…?" I tease Walt, my voice brimming with excitement.

He looks at me with his deep-set, dark brown eyes, and I'm shocked to find sadness in them. Walt shrugs at me, "And Winona turned me down."

"What?" I practically shout. Walt smacks me on my arm and signals for me to quiet down.

"Yeah," Walt continues in a hushed tone. He keeps his focus directly on the plant in front of us. Though his tone of voice is as nonchalant as ever, I note that Walt's ears have gone a bright red. "She's going with, um, Ellis. She asked Ellis."

"What?!" I whisper-shout this time. "Does that mean you're going stag?"

"Stag?" Walt asks, pausing his embarrassment to be confused. "What are you talking about? My Patronus is a panther."

"No," I sigh as I roll my eyes. "I meant like, are you going without a date?"

"Oh," Walt says. He takes a deep breath and responds hesitantly, "No... No, I'm going with, um, Lorelei."

I take a moment. "Wow," I respond, matching Walt's resigned tone of voice from just a few moments ago.

"Velma, Lorelei isn't what you make her out to be," he argues.

"Yeah? Well, Calix isn't what you make him out to be," I cut him off. "You don't get to lecture me. Not if you're going to be so hypocritical." Walt stares down into his lap, refusing to meet my gaze. Why would Winona say no? I sigh, "We're done with this conversation. Now come on. This plant is going to harvest itself."

v

"Why are you wearing your purple robes?" Winona asks me as we get ready in our dorm. She twists my long dark hair into a fishtail braid. I love wearing my wavy hair in braids, but rarely do so anymore; Marissa always braided my hair for me, so I never learned how to do it on myself.

"Why?" I ask as I frown at my reflection. I wish my eyebrows weren't so heavy; I feel like they make me look angrier than I really am. "Do you not like them?"

"No, you look great," Winona assures me. I stare back at her in the mirror. She had done her beige blonde hair up in an elegant bun with small white flowers dotting her hair. Her robes are a crisp white with sparkling crystals on the bodice. Winona looks pretty, even though she always looks pretty. With her downturned eyes and upturned nose, Winona always looks effortless with her looks, which she is; I don't know if Winona ever gives more than a passing thought about her looks. She tilts her head at me. "But those are old, aren't they? I thought you've been waiting for a chance to wear your new dark blue ones."

I move away from the mirror and to my bed so that Winona can't see the embarrassed look on my face. "Oh…" I answer tensely as I wave my wand down at my shoes, charming the straps to tie themselves together. "I don't know. I guess I'm just saving the dark blue ones for a special night."

There's no way I can admit to her that I wore my purple robes because Calix asked me to. Like Walt, Winona was skeptical when Calix and I had first started seeing each other, but I told Winona everything. I told her how nice Calix was when he wasn't stressed and I was able to pry my emotions open. How he always knew the right things to say to me. How nice his abs were. In the end, Winona knew why I liked him so much. She knew how much I cared about him, and how much our break up had hurt me. When I told Winona that I was going to the Slug Club Christmas party with Calix, she wasn't exactly pissed; it was more of a quiet rage. The last thing I want to do is let Winona know I'm going out of my way to please Calix.

Keeping my poker face secure, I casually walk over to Winona and have her secure my black necklace around my neck. We smile at each other. Winona's smile is easy. Effortless. Relaxed. Laid-back. What I would do to be as content with the world as Winona is. She gives me one last gentle smile and we step out into the common room together.

When we step out, Kane is already settled in for the night; he sits in the cushy chair in front of the fire, a bag of marshmallows tucked under his arm. "Hey… Looking good, Winners," Kane says playfully to Winona. "Your butt looks good."

Winona matches Kane's grin and twirls around in her dress. "Thanks Kaners," she responds.

I think a lot of people overlook Kane and Winona's friendship. As close as Kane and I are, Winona and Kane might be closer. Kane and Winona visit each other during summers and bond over Quidditch. Their parents are friends and have dinner parties together. The two of them practically never fight. Kane turns to me with his devilish grin and gives me a once over. "You, on the other hand, look terrible," he deadpans.

Before I can throw a snarky remark back at Kane, Walt is walking into the room. Even I can't help but swoon at the sight of him. Of course, unlike Winona, I keep my swooning internal. His hair is slicked back in typical pompadour style, and he wears his fitted navy blue dress robes with the high collar that makes Winona blush. Thankfully, Walt doesn't notice Winona or me ogling at him since he's busy looking down to adjust his black bow tie.

Kane lets out a low whistle and smirks at Walt. "Actually, Winona," he says, "I take it back. Your butt looks like garbage compared to Walt's, but either way, together you guys look great." Walt looks between Winona and Kane uncomfortably. Kane, because he's an idiot, doesn't catch the awkward glances and continues talking. "It's really about time that you two-"

"Actually, Kane," Winona interrupts. "I'm going with-"

"Alright, I'm ready!" Ellis announces as he saunters into the room wearing swanky maroon dress robes. His hair is uncharacteristically brushed and gelled smoothly down. Winona grins up at him as he wraps an arm around her shoulders.

"Ellis," Winona finishes awkwardly. "I'm going with Ellis." Kane nods slowly, but doesn't say anything. I steal a glance at Walt; unsurprisingly, he doesn't look worried at all. As charming and good-looking as Ellis is, Walt knows he can trust him with Winona.

"You ready to go?" Ellis asks Winona. She nods at him. Ellis looks up to me. "Velma, you walking with us?" he asks. I had originally planned to walk with Walt and Lorelei, acting as a barrier between the two, but I can't turn down Ellis. Not with his glowing blue eyes and blindingly bright half smile. I nod at him, and the three of us head to the party.

v

I have four jobs at Slughorn's Christmas party:

1\. Make Calix look good. This is done easily by making witty banter with all his friends, looking good on his arm, playing up all his best qualities, and laughing at all his jokes.

2\. Keep an eye on Lorelei and Walt. When Lorelei had walked in, all eyes were on her; people looked at her because she was talking so loudly, because her dress was so tight, or because on her arm was Walt, who was still as devastatingly handsome as when I first saw him.

3\. Assist Ellis in making sure Winona does not consume the entirety of the hors d'oeuvres being served tonight. Ellis doesn't want Winona to gain too much weight for Quidditch, and I don't want her to eat all the deviled eggs. I really like deviled eggs.

4\. Pretend not to notice Ames. He was already at the party when I arrived. I was caught completely off-guard; Ames isn't in the Slug Club. He and Renata were standing together, arm in arm, laughing and talking to Slughorn. Ames had caught my eye and raised the glass he had in his hand slightly upward. In spite of myself, I couldn't help but return a smile to him.

Calix bursts out in laughter in response to Slughorn's joke. I smile politely and sip my pumpkin juice. "No, no, really Professor," Calix says cheerfully. "That impression is spot on. The people in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures really all do talk like that."

Slughorn and Calix go into another fit of laughter. Calix's father is head of Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, a very high status position. Calix is the son of a politician, and it clearly shows. It's hard to tell when things with Calix are just an act, and it really makes you wonder about him. Is Slughorn really that funny, or is Calix just using the calculating side of him? How often does Calix use that strategic side of him, and how often did he use it on me?

My mind and eyes drift away from Calix, and I find myself focusing on Lorelei and Walt across the room. She practically drapes herself over him, laughing and running her hands across his broad chest. She holds a glass in her hand, and by the way she's acting, I'd bet that it's not filled with just butterbeer. Whatever it is she is drinking, Walt's cup is filled with a liquid of the same color, which worries me. His hand finds a respectful place to rest itself at the small of her back, which is more difficult than it should be; Lorelei's red dress is both strapless and backless. I look Lorelei up and down; with her red-blonde hair and risqué red dress, she looks like she could be the younger, more natural looking sister of Jessica Rabbit.

I keep looking around the room and see Ames with Renata. Ames's dress robes are black, the kind of black that reminds you that black is the absence of color. He stands with a group of people and next to Renata, though he doesn't touch her. I watch him intently, despite knowing I shouldn't. Part of me wants to judge him for attending the party with his ex, but since I'm attending the party with mine, that would be hypocritical. I wonder why he didn't tell me that he wasn't going to be here tonight. He knew that I'd be here. How did he get invited anyway? I know that his father was a somewhat important political figure at one point. Maybe his ex was his ticket into the party like mine was.

"Well, how has your family been as of late, Ms. Caplan?" Slughorn jovially asks me, pulling me back into focus.

I feel a rock drop into the pit of my stomach. "Um…" I say dumbly. How has my family been? As I scan my brain for an appropriate response, Calix nudges me with his elbow. I look up to him, and he gives me a pointed, irritated look. Crap, I've been pausing for too long. I clear my throat, "Well, Leigh has… Um… He's been training lots for Quidditch. Quidditch is all he can think about; it wouldn't surprise me if he's been daydreaming about it in potions."

Slughorn laughs, and Calix rewards me with a soft smile. "Your brother has been doing quite well in my class, actually," Slughorn says playfully. "He even does his _own_ work, contrary to his older sister."

I try to chuckle, but my laugh comes out stiff and awkward. Slughorn doesn't notice, but Calix frowns at me a little. Calm down. I need to calm down. Deviled eggs. Where are the deviled eggs? Those'll calm me down. I glance about the room and notice Winona, cramming her face full of deviled eggs. I glare at her from across the room, but she's too busy laughing with Ellis and eating the deviled eggs that should be rightfully mine. I glance over at Calix.

"Father joined the Order of Merlin when I was around ten," Calix boasts. "It was a lovely ceremony…"

He can manage without me for a bit. I politely excuse myself from the conversation, but neither Calix nor Slughorn give my exit much attention. I walk across the room to Winona and Ellis, who stand together at a table, a plate of food between them. As I approach them, Winona pops the last deviled egg from her plate into her mouth. That bitch.

"-thought you said Ginny Weasley would be here tonight!" I hear Ellis whine to Winona once I'm in earshot.

"I thought she would be," Winona responds calmly after she finishes chewing. "I guess Professor Potter bailed tonight. Is that the only reason you agreed to come with me tonight? To meet Ginny Weasley?"

Ellis runs a hand through his hair, which has already returned to its usual bed head state. "Of course not! I came for friendship and fun… but I also did bring a Holyhead Harpies shirt for her to sign."

"Where have you been keeping it?"

"I'm wearing it under my dress robe's shirt."

"God, really?" Winona asks, scrunching her face at Ellis. When Winona sees me, she turns away from Ellis to smile at me. "Hey Velma. How's your first night with the Slug Club?"

I frown at her. "Not so great now that there aren't any more deviled eggs," I say accusingly. "Win, c'mon, you know I like deviled eggs."

"Sorry," she apologizes, readjusting the white flowers in her hair. "Garrick offered me some, and, you know, there's no way I can say no when someone offers me food from a silver platter."

Ellis grins at Winona and pops a piece of pate on a cracker into his mouth. "I told you Vel would catch you finishing up the eggs."

She cringes at Ellis chewing with his mouth open, but otherwise ignores him. "I'm _sorry_ ," she reemphasizes. "Look, Garrick just headed to the kitchen to get another round of food. Let's go see if we can catch him. Ellis, are you coming?"

"Nah," he answers, ruffling his own hair. "I don't want to terrorize Garrick for food; there's enough here. You girls go ahead. I'll wait here and grab myself a drink." I grin at Ellis and head off with Winona. As I do, I glance over my shoulder to look at Ellis. His ears are red and he stumbles around a bit, throwing his arms over different people's shoulders. "Has Ellis been drinking?" I ask.

"He's Ellis," Winona responds frankly. "Of course he has."

"Do you think Calix would ever have something to drink tonight?" I ask, as we get close to the servers. "Never in a place like this, right? Too many important people."

"Does Calix drink at all?"

"I mean, sometimes we-"As we round a dark corner, my voice falters and I freeze in my tracks. I swear under my breath. Before I can react in time, Winona crashes into me from behind. "Ow!" she exclaims. "Velma, why'd you stop-"

Her voice falters away as well and Winona sees what I see. Around the corner, hidden from the rest of the party, is Walt and Lorelei. One of Walt's hands is tangled in Lorelei's long red hair, while the other hand rests on her hip, pulling her close to him. Lorelei has her back pressed up against the wall with her arms thrown around Walt's broad shoulders. Walt kisses Lorelei so enthusiastically and so deeply that neither of them notice us standing there.

"Winona…" I begin to say, but she's already rushing away from the scene. I glance back at Lorelei and Walt for a moment. They break their kiss; Walt stares at Lorelei with a Walt-like satisfaction, while Lorelei gazes into Walt's eyes dreamily. Walt leans in to resume their kissing just as I leave to go find Winona.

"Winona!" I call out to her again. She stops pushing people out of her way to reluctantly turn back to me, her face red and contorted with pain. I catch up to her and grip her by the arm. "Win…" I mutter. Now that she's actually stopped, I don't know what to say to her. "I'm sorry. I didn't- I didn't expect that-"

"Don't be sorry, Velma," Winona interrupts, his wavering, but still steady. She runs a shaky hand through her hair, messing up the bun and knocking the small white flowers to the ground. "It was really none of my business."

" _Winona_ ," I say to her sharply. Winona's face hardens then, a new emotion firing up in her. A dark look forms in her eyes. "You don't have to be like that. I know that-"

"No, you don't know anything, Velma!" she hisses at me. I flinch a little. I hate when Winona gets like this. She speaks quietly for dignity sake, so that no one will hear her making a scene. No tears threaten to spill from her eyes; she just stares at me with an anger that I've never seen from her before. An anger that I haven't seen her use towards Holt or Lorelei or even Renata. I know Winona, and this – Walt kissing _Lorelei_ of all people – is the kind of thing that would break her heart, but was this her version of heartbreak? How can her heartbreak fill her with rage, when my heartbreak just breaks me?

Winona takes another step towards me, and I look away from her, too weak to stare straight into her glare. "It's very clear that you don't know anything, and clearly," she says. I glance into her eyes for a second, and see every bit of rage that she feels. "Clearly, I don't know anything either."

Winona turns on her heel and begins to walk off. I try to keep up with her, but people crowd my path. She shoves her way through bodies of people, almost as if she were searching for someone. Who would that someone be? Clearly not me. Kane? Ellis? Walt?

"My dress!" a familiar voice shrieks. I frantically push through the crowd, trying to find the path to Winona. "Look what you did!" the voice says angrily.

Finally, I catch sight of Winona, standing on the outer edges of the crowd with Ames and Renata. Like Winona, Renata is wearing white dress robes; the dress robes are in fact quite similar, the main difference being a huge orange stain on the front of Renata's robes.

"You'll live," Winona says with a stiff smile on her face. She tries to walk off, but Renata catches her arm.

"What makes you think you can just do that?" Renata growls, pulling Winona back to face her. I run up behind Winona, and Ames and I share the most subtle glance. He looks worried; Ames-worried anyway. His hair is pushed back to the side like normal, but today is held out of his face with a bit of gel. It looks nice. It keep the hair out of his eyes, letting the blue stand out on its own.

Renata's snarl pulls me into focus. "You ruined my dress!" she says accusingly, stepping closer to Winona.

Ames puts a hand on Renata's shoulder, physically holding her back. "Renata, calm down. Just calm down." He glances at me then, almost guiltily. If I weren't here, would Ames still be trying to keep the peace? Ames looks at Winona, "Hurst, you just spilled pumpkin all over her. The least you can do is a charm to fix her robes."

"I don't know any," Winona says, obviously lying. Basic cleansing spells for clothing are taught in our third year. And only because these past few weeks I've been watching and cataloging all his movements, I notice Ames's jaw tense; I notice something shift in his eyes. I look at him pleadingly. If Winona and Renata were to cause a scene right now, I'd fail the 'make Calix look good' portion of my night. I've already failed the 'watch what Winona eats,' 'watch Walt and Lorelei', and the 'ignore Ames' portions of my night, so I'd like to at least complete one of my jobs.

I touch her gently on the arm. "Win, c'mon, just-" Winona brushes me off of her arm and turns to shoot me an angry, dismissive glare. My voice falters. Once she turns away, I can't think of anything else to do, but beg Ames with my eyes.

Ames nods at me, acknowledging my plea for help. "Hurst, aren't you supposed to be Queen of moral compasses?" Ames asks, his snobby Slytherin voice leaking into the conversation. "Just apologize to her then."

Winona could just settle this whole matter right now by swishing her wand and fixing Renata's dress, but she can't. She's too far gone. Winona looks at Ames furiously. She seethes, "You really don't want to be talking to me like that tonight."

"Or what?"

"Or what? Me, or what?" Winona gibes, her voice growing louder. Concern grows on both Renata and Ames's faces. Winona stares at them with fire in her eyes. "I think you have a good understanding of what I would be doing. The real question is what would _you_ be doing to help yourself, Ames?" Ames stares at her, completely befuddled by a version of Winona that he's never seen before. Thankfully, she lowers her voice back down, not making a scene. Winona smirks. "What? You can't think of any insults for me since I'm not a muggle born, can you? You can't think of any insults for someone from the member of the Hurst family, can you?"

Ames flounders around for a response. Renata looks at Ames expectantly, waiting for him to defend her. "I… The Hurst family?" he begins awkwardly. "You're a family of… half-bloods aren't you?"

As Winona's death glare grows, Ellis jogs up to us. "Hey, there you guys are," he says casually. Ellis scans the scene and his casual demeanor drops. "What's going on?"

"Just hold on, Ellis," I say quickly to him. I turn back to Winona and grip her arm, "Win, this isn't worth it."

"I'm not finished with him, Velma," she says, shaking me off of her. She faces Ames, "My family may be protecting me tonight, but your family can't, can they? Not when they're all in Azkaban. You're a worthless piece of shit. You're a worthless piece of shit to _everyone_. You have to notice how everyone looks at you in the halls, and you have to notice how _everyone hates you_."

Winona's voice gets louder, attracting more attention. Ames shockingly remains steadfast and keeps his chin held up high. Every word Winona says is heated by a broken heart, but Ames takes each and every punch straight on. Renata glares up at Ames, almost annoyed that he's staying silent. Should I say something on his behalf? It wouldn't be smart to throw myself in between an angry Winona and Ames, but I think of the way Ames's eyes shine when he's excited. I think of the tiny smile he'll give me after I tell him something personal. I think of him and feel waves of guilt as I listen to my best friend berate him.

More and more people gather near us. Some stand nearby pretending to be conversing while eavesdropping, while others unashamedly lean in towards us to catch bits and pieces of our conversation. I watch in horror as a circle fills out around us, listening to Winona ridicule Ames. Ellis keeps talking to Winona in a gentle voice urging her to stop, but she ignores him and just keeps ridiculing him. My stomach twists as I see the pain start to show on Ames's face.

My head tells me to stay out of it. Winona is my best friend and she's only acting like this because of Walt. I know better than to get in her warpath.

My heart tells me to stand up for Ames. I know how I feel about him and seeing him being-

Wait... Oh, God.

How do I feel about Ames?

"And your mother? She's going to rot away in prison for the rest of her life," Winona sneers. I watch in silent horror as Ames's face crumples in on itself. At last, he finally tries to get away from Winona, but the crowd growing around us traps him in. Winona hisses, "I can't believe they didn't stick you in Azkaban with her. You deserve to be there, and if you were stuck there, no one would notice. No one would notice because you mean nothing."

Ames's face is red, and he finally manages to push his way out of the crowd, Renata following close behind. People laugh at Ames. Some even applaud. My head spins and spins and spins and oh my God. _How do I feel about Ames?_

Ellis takes Winona by the wrists and pulls her out of the crowd. I follow them closely behind. He keeps pulling her until we're all in the corridor outside the door to Slughorn's office. Ellis stares at Winona, holding her by the shoulders. "Winnie, what was that? What just happened?" he asks, his voice exasperated and confused.

Winona brushes Ellis's hands off her shoulder without saying a word, but after a moment quiet tears start streaming down her face. On the rare occasion Winona cries, she hardly moves or even makes a sound, and this time is no exception. She just stands there crying, even her face staying still. Ellis and I stare at her. He drops his hands and tries to pull her into a hug, but she turns away from him.

I surprise myself when I don't move to comfort Winona. I don't want to comfort her. Winona was wrong. She started the argument, and she should've just apologized. She shouldn't have said those things to Ames because… _Because._

Oh, shit.

I stumble away from them, neither my head nor my heart managing to create any coherent thoughts. I stumble away from them into the party. The crowd listening to Winona's argument has long since dispersed by now, but when people see me they lean into each other, point, and whisper. My mind barely processes them. I'm too focused on something else.

"Vels!" I hear Calix call out to me. I follow his voice and turn to see him navigating his way through the party to get to me. "Vels," he says again once he's next to me. "Where'd you disappear to? I've been looking for you for a while now. Come on, I heard a rumor that Kingsley Shacklebolt will be arriving shortly. I need you with me when we talk."

"I can't," I respond, surprising myself. When was the last time I managed to say no to Calix? Calix looks surprised too, but not angry at all. "I can't," I repeat. "I'm sorry. There's an emergency. I need- I need to go."

I head for the exit, and Calix moves with me. "Emergency? What happened is everything alright?"

"I don't know," I say honestly. "I think so. I just- I just need to do something."

Calix looks at me intently. Reddish brown hair and hazel eyes. For a moment, I think he's about to offer to come with me. To help me. To remind me of how kind and considerate he can be when he's not so focused on something else. "Alright," he says back to me. "Do what you need to do. I'm going to stay here in case Shacklebolt makes an appearance. I'm sure you'll handle it."

He smiles at me. Then Calix leans down and gives me a soft kiss on the cheek. My eyes close and I smell his familiar crisp scent that lingers around him. Calix pulls away and gives me one last smile before heading back into the party. He doesn't turn back. I let out a breath that I hadn't realized I was holding. I squeeze my eyes tight. It was only for a moment.

I rush out the exit and start climbing the flight of stairs to the seventh floor. To the Room of Requirement.


	13. Blizzard

**Chapter Thirteen** **–** **Blizzard**

"Ames!" I shout as I burst through the doors of the Room of Requirement. I know exactly what I'm going to say to him; I had many floors of running to figure it out. _Ames, I'm sorry. Ames, what Winona said was wrong. Ames, I care. I would notice if you were gone._

Out of breath and breathing hard, I look around the room. He's not here.

I knock my head against the wall. Of course he isn't here. Why would he have gone here? Would he have gone back to the Slytherin common room? Did he just cool down for a bit and then return to the party? How narcissistic am I to think that the Room of Requirement was as important to Ames as it was to me? I use the Room as a place of refuge; Ames just uses it as a quiet place to study. This stupid room. This stupid Godforsaken room. It's all those stupid rom-coms that I watch with my cousins that made me think that Ames would be waiting for me in here.

"I'm an idiot," I say to myself. "Oh, my God. I'm an idiot." I grab at my hair, affectively ruining the braid that Winona had done for me just a few hours before. I kick the wall of the room. "I'm a useless, stupid, idiot! God, what is wrong with me?"

What's wrong with me is that I've caught feelings for Ames Fremont. _Ames Fremont._ How did this happen? How could I have let myself do this? Shouldn't your heart check in with your head before making a decision to feel this way about someone? Shouldn't your head have an off-switch or self-destruct button when your heart goes rouge like this? It would've saved me a lot of time; it's only the ones that I love that end up hurting me.

Hate. God, I hate this. I hate that he's not here and that I want him to be here. Frustration. Hate. This is wrong. This is all wrong. Hate. Hate. Hate. This wasn't supposed to happen.

"ARGH!" I scream. I pull my wand from my robe's pocket and swing my arm. A bright red light shoots from my wand and crashes into the wall. The blast made a hole in the wall, but not enough to break through it. I let out a huffy breath as I watch the Room of Requirement repair itself.

The wall makes a low rumbling noise as it fills the hole, but even after the wall is fixed, the low rumble continues. I look around the room, confused, and see that the Room has opened up a window for me. I stare at it apprehensively, but eventually make my way over to look out it. The scene outside looks the beginnings of a snowstorm. I can barely see anything, only a figure trudging through the snow. What am I thinking? For all I know, that blob could be Filch. Am I seriously delusional enough to believe that nondescript silhouette is Ames?

Yes. Yes, I am.

"God…" I whisper in a husky voice. Almost fearfully, like the room can see and hear everything I do, I glance about the room. The Room of Requirement always gets people what they need. "I'm sorry for calling you stupid… Room," I shout. "Thank you for... Um. Thanks."

I head for the door of the Room of Requirement, but as I do, I think of those seven flights of stairs I'd have to go down and all the students that see me. I can't let anyone see me. Maybe if I'm careful enough I could apparate. I was one of the best apparaters in my class, but there's still I chance I could splinch myself. Wouldn't _that_ be romantic? I could run up to Ames carrying a severed limb asking him for help. I take a deep breath and focus on the outside of the castle. Focus on just the edge of the bridge. The edge of the bridge.

A loud _crack_ fills the air as I find myself being twisted and pulled through the air. It all stops abruptly, and I find myself standing outside the castle in the middle of the snow. Goosebumps form on my arms, and I start shivering. God, I'm a dumbass. Who forgets their cloak out if they're going out into the snow? Doesn't matter now. I have to find Ames.

But now the high of the moment has left me. All the romance I surrounded this moment in has worn off, and reality sets in. I'm actually going to do this. I feel my heart pounding in my chest, and despite all the cold, amazingly my feet have begun to sweat. Every single worst scenario of him laughing at me or him running away from me or him telling all the students at school play through my head. I could leave right now. I could turn around right now and go back into the party and stay with Calix. But if I gave up now, that would make me a coward, and how could I call myself a coward and still feel like a Gryffindor? What am I if not brave?

" _Lumos,_ " I cast as I pull my wand from my pocket. Icy snow hits my eyes, and I put my hand up to shield my face. Determined, I trek forward.

Luckily, it doesn't take long to get to get to the person from the window, and even luckier, the person from the window is in fact Ames. He sits on the bridge with his legs dangling over the side and his arms resting on the handrails of the bridge. His chin rests on his folded hands, and his usually tidy hair is weighed down by melted snow.

"Ames!" I call out to him as I put my wand away. He's lit by a nearby streetlamp, making it look like he's dramatically sitting in a lone spotlight. I drag my legs through the snow until I hop on the bridge. No snow is on it, and I briefly wonder what charm they used to keep snow off it and why they didn't use it for all the land surrounding the castle.

Ames hears me step on to the bridge and turns sharply to look at me. When he sees it's me, he almost deflates from either relief or disappointment. I can't tell. He wipes snow from his face and in a surprisingly gentle voice he asks, "What are you doing here?"

"I- I didn't think you sh-should, you know, be alone," I answer a little dumbly, trying to force my nerves not to make me stumble over my words. Ames looks at me, speechless, so to fill the awkward silence I start to sit down next to him on the bridge.

Ames tries to stop me. "Stop, you'll get your dress robes dirty."

I roll my eyes at him. "Seriously? You think I care about that right now?" I take my seat next to him, leaving a good amount of space between the two of us. He stares into the distance without an expression and not even flinching from the snow. "Hey…" I break the silence awkwardly. "I'm sorry for what they were… Or I guess what Winona was saying. It was- She isn't- Ames, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me, Velma," Ames says without looking at me. "I know I've told you not to before… so please don't."

And despite the odd tenseness in his voice and despite all the butterflies threatening to fly out of my mouth, I can't help but let out a soft, breathy laugh. "I don't understand what you mean sometimes, Ames."

"Good," he responds bluntly, still staring off. I wish he'd look at me. "If you did understand I doubt you'd keep me around."

"Fine, then I'm not apologizing, but I still think what Winona did was wrong," I persist, grabbing his forearm. Ames looks down in his lap, his lips pressed tightly together. I continue, "And it wasn't just what she did that was wrong. What she said was also wrong because I… I…" My words get choked down in my throat, and I feel like an idiot. But finally, _finally_ Ames turns his head and looks at me. His blue eyes find me through the flurries of snow, and they are brimmed with an emotion I can't seem to place. Relief? Embarrassment? Confusion? I wipe the snow off my face and say what I know I need to say. " _I_ care about you and…. I… You know, I notice."

Ames shrugs, but I recognize the false nonchalance he's trying to cover himself in. He offers me the saddest smile I've ever seen. "Well, it'd be easy to notice if one of the two people was missing from our Room of Requirement meetings."

I shake my head at him, forcing every sarcastic bone in my body to not take over. Pushing all fear and uncertainty aside, I slide my hand down his forearm and cover the top of his hand. It's not like how it was in the Room of Requirement; my fingers are so numb, I can hardly feel his hands. I feel myself begin to shake and wonder if I do because of the cold or because of something else. Ames and I hold eye contact. "Not just because of that," I say, my voice almost getting lost in the wind.

Ames glances down at our hands; he doesn't pull away, but flips his hand and intertwines our unfeeling fingers. Slowly, the Ames-version of a smile fills his face. "Thank you, Velma," he says. The way he says my name makes my heart tense, or maybe it makes it loosen. I'm not sure. It's a weird, wonderful, confusing feeling. He barely use people's names when he speaks to them, not like I do. I know he's said my name before, but hearing it this time feels so different. So much better.

We sit quietly on the bridge next to each other. People romanticize the snow a lot. It's always, " _The powdery white snow fell down on as the two embraced. It caught in his hair and her eyelashes. He brushed snow off her face and then leaned down to kiss her."_ No, that's bullshit. The snow is harsh and unforgiving. Shivering isn't cute, it's really uncomfortable and awkward feeling. And Ames shouldn't give me his jacket because I was an idiot and forgot my own when heading out in the snow. It's not romantic, that's stupid. Worse than stupid, it's selfish. If I let him give me his jacket, then he'd be cold.

The ice pricks at my face and my eyes. I stare down into my lap, not knowing exactly what to say or what to do next. Maybe I'll wait until he leaves, or maybe I'll get up now before I catch a cold. Then, before I can decide what to do, Ames's arm is slowly moving up and wrapping around my shoulders. I guess that is something that's true about romanticizing snow; huddling together for heat is kind of romantic.

When he touches me, any lingering doubts I had about liking Ames get blown away with the snowstorm. You don't feel this kind of want with someone you don't care for, or at least you shouldn't. My head spins, and even though I know how I feel, I feel myself debating over my next choice.

My head tells me that I don't need any extra drama in my life. That any _boy_ would just unnecessarily complicate things.

My heart tells me that I know I like him. That I know I want him. He's something that I want, and if he's giving himself to me, then why wouldn't I take it?

I lean into his chest and wrap an arm around his waist. He covers me with his cloak, shielding me from the snow. We sit like that for maybe a minute. The snow flurries around us, and it occurs to me that we could just go back to the castle. I then realize, we can't because people would see us together. What would they say if they say the Gryffindor and the Slytherin together like this?

He tries to pull me closer to him, but I sit up and away from him. His hair is matted and wet from the snow. His cheeks and nose are a bright red against his pale skin. His body heat wasn't even hot when I was pressed against him. He was chilled too, but he still tried to heat me up anyway. Ames's cool façade has certainly left him, and yet, I still see him and think _handsome_.

Slowly, giving Ames every opportunity to stop me, I lean up to him, and brush my lips over his cheek.

I linger there for a moment, but then pull away quickly. I watch Ames carefully, hoping against hope that he'll turn and kiss me, but he still doesn't look at me. In fact, it looks like he's stiffened, like he's actually been frozen by the cold.

"W-w-well," I say after another moment, feeling more defeated than ever. Feeling like a fool and feeling the familiar state of devastation. I awkwardly stand up and try my best to hide any sign of tears in my voice. "I should get to the castle. The party is probably-"

But before I finish speaking, before I can even finish thinking, Ames is standing up next to me, his left hand on my waist, his right hand on my cheek, and his mouth on mine. I'm stunned for a moment, my eyes open and my hands up in the air, frozen just like Ames was, but a moment later, I find my hands wrapped around his neck, pulling us closer together.

It's such a strange kiss, but not because of anything we're doing. I've just been out in the cold for so long, my lips have gone numb. Ames has been out here for even longer than me, so I can't imagine it's much better for him. But even though I can't feel his mouth on mine, I feel my heart practically beating out of my chest. I can feel my fingertips tingle and my head spin. I feel how I'm supposed to feel, even though I can't feel his lips.

But then our mouths open and our hot breath warms me and brings feeling back into my lips. And that warmth spreads from my lips to the rest of my body, like it's sent a shockwave through my nervous system. The feeling spreads and spreads through me until I'm nearly unaware that I'm in the middle of the beginnings of a snow storm. No part of me is numb now.

Then after what feels like hours but only could have been an instant, we pull away from each other. Ames keeps his one hand wrapped around my waist, and his other on my chin, forcing me to look at him. His heavy breath hits my skin, and it sets every nerve that it touches on fire. I stare up at him, focused on his eyes. There's an intensity in his eyes that I've never seen before. Like there's a fire in them. Like... Like...

Like I'm at the Battle of Hogwarts again, and I'm staring at Ames Fremont's blue eyes through a wall of fire.

The all too familiar memories hit me before I can stop them. Don't be a coward. You have to fight. Have to help. Marissa finds you. Make the promise. She goes to the battle because of you. Because of you. Find Leigh and save your baby brother. Save him from the Death Eater. Save yourself from Ames Fremont. Survive and see Ames's blue eyes burn. Get out of the castle. You survive. Your sister doesn't.

I gasp and push Ames away from me. He stumbles back with his hands up, confused and apprehensive. I take control of my breath and stop my hands from shaking, but all of me feels cold again. Ames doesn't leave me.

"Velma," he says in a strained voice, "I'm sorry." I look at him and nod my head.

Icy snow falls on us as we stare at each other. It catches in Ames's hair and eyelashes.

God.


	14. Take a Break

**Chapter Fourteen** **–** **Take a Break**

"-and Trelawny starts going on about the third eye to me. I thought it was all kinda weird, but then she says that _I_ might have one," Kane explains as he, Winona, and I step off the Hogwarts Express. "She's not sure if I'm just naturally gifted or if I actually have the third eye. I'm supposed to..."

Kane's voice is over powered by the noises of Platform 9 3/4. Goodbyes and greetings and wishings of merry Christmases fill the air. We push our carts side by side; Choo-Choo and Artie, Winona's owl, chirp at each other from their cages, and Comma purrs softly while he rests on Kane's shoulders. As we walk, I find myself oddly fixated on a younger student, probably a first year, running to his parents, ecstatic to see them for the first time in months.

"So I'm wandering around in the library, minding my own business," Kane says, "when Holt comes over and snatches my book about third eyes out from under my arm…"

From the corner of my eye, I notice Ames walking off with an old lady. Clearly it's not his mother as she's in Nurmengard. Who is she? Aunt? Grandmother? Caretaker? I'm not sure what happened to his big shot father after You-Know-Who was killed. I'm not even sure if his father was a Death Eater. Maybe he was sent to prison as well. Who takes care of Ames? Does he live in some dark mansion all by himself? Ames looks at me, but I turn away before our eyes can meet.

"-and after that, Holt, that goddamn shithead, Holt has the nerve to ask me if I'm only good at divination because I'm Chinese!"

"Well..." Winona says cautiously. " _Does_ being Chinese help with divination?"

"Winona!" Kane exclaims, offended.

"Sorry!" Winona apologizes quickly. "I just thought that _maybe_ you could've had an ancestor who-"

"Yeah and you could've had an ancestor who was a slave owner, but you don't see me accusing you of making Sharon do your homework," Kane retorts.

"I'm _sorry_ , but I think you're over reacting a tad."

"Whatever. So then I- Velma, are you listening to me?"

"For sure," I answer. "Winona's racist. Holt is racist. You're angry. What happened next?"

"Right, so then I said to Holt..."

I tune out Kane's voice when I see Lorelei's family (her entire auror dynasty family had shown up for her) and Walt's family (his parents and his two little sisters) waiting patiently for Lorelei and Walt to finish saying their goodbyes. Lorelei is practically draped around Walt. Her arms are thrown dramatically around his shoulders and her chest is pressed into his. They stand forehead to forehead, and Lorelei nuzzles her nose against Walt's. I think I might be sick. Lorelei and Walt (or Walei as some have referenced it) have officially earned the title of _"that_ couple."

News of the kiss the two had shared at Slughorn's Christmas party spread like wildfire throughout the school. Before the night had ended, all the Gryffindors knew what had happened, but Walt would not say a word about it. That is, until I had cornered Walt the morning after.

"I can't believe you kissed Lorelei!" I had shouted at Walt the day after the Slug Club Christmas party. The night after both of our kisses. "I can't believe that you would do that to Winona."

"I didn't do anything to Winona," Walt had answered me haughtily. He was sitting on the steps that led up to the boys' dorm. It took all morning for him to leave his room, but since I am as persistent as I am, I managed to corner him. "If you recall," he continued, "Winona rejected _me_ a few days before. Me kissing Lorie should have no effect on her."

I had caught Walt before he had time to do this hair, so on this rare occasion his dark brown hair hung low on his forehead. "Still," I argued. "You know how Winona feels-"

"Stop, Velma," he said forcefully. "If she really felt that way, she wouldn't have gone with Ellis to the party. Neither of you should expect me to just mope and sit around waiting for her."

Walt glared at me, but I still held eye contact. A long silence hung in the air until I finally spoke. "Does that mean you and Lorelei are an official thing now?" I asked. At that, Walt lost his nerve and looked away from me. My mouth started to drop open. "No…"

"Yeah, we are," Walt had conceded, rising from the steps. "And I don't care what you think or what you say-"

"Walt-"

"I know she doesn't get along with you guys, but she's different with me-"

"Walter-"

"And she likes me! I shouldn't have to spare Winona's feelings when she never considers-"

"Walter Timothy Stay!" I had shouted. After hearing his full name, Walt finally shut up. I glared at him with a forcefulness I'm not used to showing him. He met my eyes almost guiltily, but still with an unfamiliar anger. "She's horrid," I had said to him, pointblank. "She's obnoxious and rude and self-centered and-"

"Velma, shut up," he had interrupted me, all dark eyes and determined scowl. "You don't know her like I do."

I stopped talking then, realizing how serious Walt was about this. I stepped out of the staircase's doorway, finally letting him past. He stomped past me, but before he left I called out to him. "Walt, stop," I said. He turned back to me, still fuming. I dropped my tense shoulders and let my arms fall to my sides. I shrugged at him. "I'm sorry. You're always looking out for me, and I just… I'd like to return the favor every once in a while. It's… Ugh. I'm sorry."

His expression soften then, and I saw the Walt I'm used to seeing, despite the messy hair. "I forgive you," he said.

"Just," I began before he could leave, "… Do _you_ know why Winona always says no to you?"

"Why are you asking me?" Walt asked as he turned away from me and made his way to the bathroom. "Just go talk to Winona yourself. Don't you two tell each other everything?"

A pang of guilt hit me then. Everything. Ames falls into the category of everything, but I can't tell Winona about him. I don't even know if that kiss with him was anything. A part of me tried to convince me that not telling Winona about Ames was fair since she never tells me anything about Walt. Walt for whatever reason was classified information. She never said anything about how she felt about him or why they weren't together. Walt definitely is a big part of Winona's everything.

I poke Kane in the arm with my wand, and when he looks at me I point at Walt and Lorelei with my eyebrows. Kane nods knowingly, and with Winona in between the two of us, we effectively steer her in the opposite direction from them without her noticing.

"Hey Kaaane!" a young girl's voice calls out. The three of us turn and see Kane's parents and little sister waving at us.

Kane's face breaks into a smile, and he waves back. "C'mon, guys. Come say hi," Kane says to Winona and me as we all start heading towards the Longs. "My family's always asking how you guys are."

All of the other Longs besides Kane are muggles. I can't imagine what it must be like for them. To be exposed to a world of magic and not be able to do any of it yourself? Frankly, that would suck. It must especially suck for Peony, Kane's twelve year-old little sister. According to Kane, Peony had sobbed for her entire eleventh birthday when no Hogwarts letter had shown up for her.

"There's our Kaners!" Mrs. Long says brightly as she pulls Kane in for a kiss on the cheek. Mrs. Long is the parent who gave Kane his half-Chinese-ness, even though she's from America. She smiles warmly at us, "Hey girls! Winona, you been keeping Kane and Velma out of trouble?"

Winona shrugs, but has a soft smile on. "I try my best."

Peony pushes past her mom and bear hugs Kane. He smiles down at her and hugs her back. I watch them and wonder if there was ever a time Leigh has ever been that happy to see me. He was definitely that happy to see Marissa when she would come back from Hogwarts. After a long while, Peony finally releases Kane from the hug. "There's other magic people here, right?" she asks, buzzing with excitement. "That means you can do some magic, right? Right? Kane, do some magic pleeease!"

I beam at Peony. She looks a lot like Kane. Both have light beige skin and warm almond shaped eyes. The main difference between them is Peony's sleek brown hair as opposed to Kane's spiky black hair. According to Kane, Peony can be just as sarcastic and as full of fight as him, if not more, but watching Peony just jumping around her big brother, it's hard to imagine her as anything but an eager little kid.

With a dramatic flair, Kane whips his wand out of his jacket. Kane sows wand holders on the inside of all his jackets. He's even sown a few in for Winona and me. He points his wand at the sky. " _Avis_!" he shouts.

White birds burst from his wand and fly in circles around the Longs. Peony watches them in wonder as do Kane's parents; Kane has said that muggle parents never get enough credit for having to adjust to the wizarding world. Seeing Mr. and Mrs. Long laughing and reaching out to touch the birds reminds me that Kane's parents are much more adjusted than my dad is.

Peony applauds, "While we're here, Kane! Do more magic!"

Kane raises his wand again, but before he can say anything, Winona has her hand on his shoulder. "Kane, your birthday was last month," she says. Kane nods, obviously not seeing the importance with her statement. Winona sighs, "You're seventeen. You can do your magic whenever you feel like it."

"Oh yeah!" Kane exclaims, his eyes widening. "I'll show you tons of magic at home, Peony. It'll be so cool; you'll never have to do any chores so long as I'm home!"

"Really?"

"Yeah, you won't even have to walk places anymore."

"Oh, Lord," Mr. Long sighs, shaking his head. He turns to Winona and me. "You girls are more than welcome to stop by during the break, you know." Winona smiles and immediately accepts Mr. Long's offer. The Hursts and the Longs live much closer to each other than my family does. I've always been jealous that Kane and Winona have been able to spend time with each other in the summer and during breaks, but even if I did live closer, it's not like I could just leave Leigh on his own with Dad.

Where is Leigh anyway? I glance around the station. I see him off to the side of his mixed group of friends. He's chatting with that cute Ravenclaw girl I always see hanging around him. She's the one who works as the Quidditch commentator. I think her name is Aria. Leigh catches my eye, and I smirk at him and give him two thumbs up. He rolls his eyes at me but grins anyway.

I turn back to Mr. Long. "I don't think I'd be able to visit," I decline awkwardly. "Maybe. I'll try my best."

Mr. Long gives me a warm smile and nods. I've never explained Dad's situation to him. Hell, I've barely talked to Kane about it, but I have to assume that Kane's put some pieces together and told his parents about mine. "You're welcome anytime, Velma," he says to me.

"Hey Dad," Kane says as he levitates Peony. "I'm hungry. Let's stop and get food on the way home."

"Actually, Kane," Mrs. Long says, " _Nainai_ and _Yeye_ are here for Christmas. They flew in last week."

"Seriously?!" Kane exclaims joyfully. When he does he completely loses focus on his levitation charm and drops his sister. Luckily, Winona catches Peony with her own charm before she collides into the ground. Kane grins. "Does that mean _Nainai_ made xiaolongbao for me?"

"Yes, there is a fresh plate waiting for you at home."

"Sweet!" Kane shouts. He turns to Winona and me and pulls us both into a tight group hug. "Velma, if I don't see you during break, I'll see you in the new year," he says to me. "Win, I'll see you… next week-ish?"

"We'll see," Winona responds.

"Great," Kane says, as he begins to herd his family through the 9 ¾ wall. "Both of you have a happy Christmas!" he shouts right before he runs through the wall.

I sigh and smile at the thought of Kane's family. How could so many people at our school think so low of the Longs just because they are muggles?

After a moment, Winona breaks the silence and asks me, "Kane and I definitely aren't going to get to see you over break, are we?" I grimace at her. Part of me wants to bail on Dad and Leigh for just one day to spend with my friends, but I know it would be selfish of me to do that. I shake my head, disappointed, but Winona gives me an understanding smile. "I figured. That is why..." she swishes her wand, and a present flies into her readily opened hand. "I came prepared." She hands me the wrapped gift eagerly.

"I don't have anything for you," I say.

"I didn't expect you to," she says as she hands me the package. "Open it now. I want to see your reaction."

I smile at her and tear into the paper to find a fancy looking book. I flip the cover open to see a picture of my parents on their wedding day. My eyes fill with tears as I stare at Mom's light brown hair in curls and her blue eyes shining. Dad looks at Mom like he's seen the stars for the first time. He looks so different, slimmer and without a wrinkle on his face.

"Do you like it?" Winona asks me.

I nod as I keep flipping through the photos. There's the last photo taken that includes my entire family where Leigh is just a toddler and Mom hadn't lost her hair from chemo yet. Leigh, Dad, and I dropping off Marissa at Platform 9 ¾ for the first time. Kane, Winona, and I on the Hogwarts Express back from our first year. Sharon with her arms thrown around Winona and me in the common room. Walt, Ellis, and I posing outside of Zonko's. Leigh in his Seeker uniform while I pose proudly next to him. Marissa and I in our pajamas at home.

Winona even included some pictures that I hadn't expected to see. Pictures that are harder for me to see. Mom in the hospital with Marissa, Leigh, and I all crammed in the bed with her. Calix and I at the lake the night we first kissed. Leigh and I, dressed in black, standing together at Marissa's funeral.

"Where did you get these?" I ask.

"You know Ridley always carries that camera around with him," Winona answers, shrugging. "The rest I got from Leigh." I nod, still looking through the pictures. One with Aunt Iris and Uncle Conway. Another with Choo-Choo on my arm. "Are you..." Winona begins. "Are you okay with some of the more difficult ones? Like the... Calix ones and the ones of your mom? Because if not I can totally take them out-"

"No, don't worry about it," I interrupt. "I like having it there. I like having the whole story."

"Leigh said you'd say that," Winona says. "I'm making one for Kane, but it'll probably be his graduation gift."

"What'd you get him for Christmas?" I ask as I close the book.

"Tarot cards."

"Nice. Mr. Third Eye'll love that."

"Winona, over here!" someone calls out to us. We both turn to see Winona's parents waving us over. When she sees them, Winona rushes over to her parents and pulls them both into a huge hug. I stand off to the side awkwardly.

"Oh, Winona!" Mr. Hurst says as he lifts Winona off her feet in their hug. "We've missed you this year!" He turns to me. "And Velma, how has your last year been going for you?"

"Fine," I answer polietly.

"We'd love to stay and catch up with you," Mrs. Hurst says to me as she pushes Winona's hair out of her eyes, "but we have to hurry off. We're expecting company at home in five minutes. We have to apparate right away."

Winona and I trade our goodbyes and our merry Christmases, and I watch as her family passes through the wall too. Just me now. I look around the station. Lorelei's auror family is gone. Walt and his Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw sisters are gone. Even Ames and his (maybe) caretaker are gone. Platform 9 ¾ is nearly cleared out. I look around and see my little brother sitting all alone on a bench. I head over to Leigh and silently take the seat next to him.

"Where's Aunt Iris?" Leigh asks.

"I don't know," I answer as my fingers idly play with the miniature flask of Amortentia that rests around my neck. "She said she'd be here."

Leigh and I sit there waiting as the very last of the families clear out and even the Hogwarts Express's conductor has left. We sit there, waiting. There's no worse feeling than being the last kids to be picked up by their parents. What's the more favorable thing to feel in a situation like this? Forgotten or unwanted?

I let out a huffy breath. "Leigh, let's go. I don't think she's coming," I say frustrated.

"What if she's on her way right now?" Leigh asks me. "What if she shows up here and we're not here. She'll think something happened to us."

"I'm sure Aunt Iris will figure it out," I retort as I toss a treat into Choo-Choo's cage. I hate that I've left her locked up for so long. "Leigh, c'mon get up. Grab our carts. Take my hand."

"Apparating with this much stuff is never a good idea, Vel," Leigh says uncertainly to me.

"Trust me," I responded, making sure all my things were secure on my cart. "I'm not in the mood to walk all the way home."

"Alright," Leigh replies tentatively as he tucks his black and white cat, Ozzy, into his sweatshirt. "Be careful. I'd really rather not lose a limb today."

"I know what I'm doing, Leigh," I retort. "Just shut up so I can focus."

I hear Leigh fume for a second, but he quiets down quickly. Focus, focus, focus. Home. 326 St. Teresa Avenue. Deep breath. Brick house in the middle of the street. Brick house with a tree and a white picket fence. The sidewalk in front of our white picket fence.

The familiar _crack_ of apparition surrounds us as we're sent hurdling towards home. Through all the uncomfortable twists and turns, I feel Leigh's hand tighten on mine. I know that he absolutely hates appartaing places. I grip his hand back.

And suddenly it's over, and we're standing in the middle of our street. I glance around, nervous that anyone saw us. We live in a muggle neighborhood, per Dad's request. Luckily, I think we went unnoticed. Leigh drops my hand and when I turn to him, he's down on his knees vomiting into the street gutter.

"Oh, okay Leigh," I say as I take a knee next to him, patting his back. "Let it out. We made it home."

Vomit stops leaving his mouth, and Leigh lifts his head up groggily. He turns to me, his grey eyes bloodshot. "Ugh, God…" he groans. "Why does this always happen when I apparate?"

I throw his arm over my shoulders as I try to drag him into our house. After glancing around the neighborhood again, I swish my wand and send our bags flying into the house. "Leigh, at least try to pick up your feet," I groan as he leaves his full body weight on me. "Leigh. Leigh! You are being so over dramatic! You should be able to stand by now."

"Sorry, sorry," Leigh apologizes as I drag him to our front door. He pulls Ozzy out of his sweatshirt. Poor cat was just patiently waiting in there while Leigh vomited.

"I'll get you some water and then…" my voice falters out as my brother and I enter out house. Besides Leigh and my suitcases in a neat stack, our living room is a disaster scene. Furniture has been tipped over. Paper liters the floor. Glasses and dishes have been shattered. The bulldog Dad got a few months ago, Dexter, lazily lies among the wreckage. My brother and I stare at the scene for a moment, both of us dumbfounded.

"Whoa…" Leigh says. After we both assess the situation a minute longer, Leigh produces his wand and begins to put our house back in repairs. Leigh was ecstatic when I turned of age to do magic outside of school since it meant he himself could do it at home as well. Everything in our living room slowly falls back into place, and once it's all completed, I notice a note sitting on the side table near the front door. I snatch it off the table and read it.

Aunt Iris's handwriting. Rushed and sloppy.

 _My darling niece and nephew,_

 _Your father and I are fine. Don't worry. He had an episode, hence the state of your house. I had to drive him to the hospital. I'll be back with him as soon as possible._

 _Always,_

 _Auntie Iris_

"That explains it," Leigh sighs after reading the letter over my shoulder. Ozzy jumps out of Leigh's arms and immediately goes to investigate Dexter. Leigh lets out a huffy breath and then heads for the kitchen. A moment later, I hear Leigh groan. "Vel!" he shouts. "The fridge is empty."

"Well," I say, "can you head down to the store and buy me some groceries, so I can cook. I'm sure Dad's got some money laying around here some place. _Accio money._ " I cast. Three twenty pound notes, a five pound note, and about 30 pence fly into my hand.

Leigh grabs the money as he walks back into the living room. "I can do that," he answers. He turns to me for a second and gets the oddest look on his face. "Are you okay?" he asks.

"Yes? Why do I seem less than okay?"

"You're just in a weirdly good mood," Leigh states as he tilts his head at me. "Like, weirdly calm."

"Thanks? Are you going to go buy or do you need me to hold your hand when you cross the street?"

"I'm going. I'm going," Leigh responds, as he heads out the door. "Bye Vel. I'll be back in a bit."

I nod in response and wait for him to close the front door. I look around the house, embracing it's eerie silence. This is the first time I've been alone since that moment after the Slug Club's Christmas Party and- and- Oh, God.

I take a deep breath and shriek at the top of my lungs.

Oh, what the hell? Oh, my God. What did I do? Jesus Christ, how could I mess up so badly? What's wrong with me? What was I thinking? I can't believe I could be so dumb, my God. In the snow, kissing Ames. _Shit_. What was I thinking? How could kissing Ames make anything better? How could kissing Ames do anything, but complicate everything?

I throw myself down on the couch, and this being the first time in months when I've really truly been alone, I allow myself to sob. Not just cry, but sob. With heaving breaths and boogers and tears and ungodly wailing sounds. I cry about Ames. I cry about Dad. I cry about not being able to be with Kane and Winona over break. I cry about another Christmas without Mom or Marissa. I cry and cry and cry until there's no more tears left in me. Part of me wants to continue crying because I can no longer cry, but Leigh could walk in at any moment, and the last thing I need is for him to see me like this.

I get up from the couch and flip the pillow over, effectively hiding the tears and boogers smudged on it. I step into the bathroom, close the door, and splash water on my face. My reflection stares back at me from the mirror. I feel magic flow through me. The kind of magic that I felt when I was little, and my magic abilities were just starting to show. The kind of magic that I can't control. It pulses through me, and I watch helplessly as the mirror in front of me shatters.

"Shit…" I sigh. I grab my wand, ready to repair the damages. " _Repar-_ "

My voice stops. Maybe even my heart stops when I see Marissa staring back at me in the broken mirror. I drop my wand to the ground. I spin around, but she's not behind me. Only in the reflection.

"Marissa..?" I say in disbelief. "What are you..? How are you..?"

"I thought you'd be a bit too old for temper tantrums by now," she says to me casually. Her reflection touches my reflection on the shoulder. I try my hardest to focus on her touch, but it's not there. Not really. "You haven't been doing so great, have you, sis?"

Tears well up in my eyes. "You don't know the half of it…" I whisper.

"Oh, actually I do," Marissa says, her easy smile suddenly dropping from her face. She frowns at me, and I swear to God, when she does the room drops twenty degrees. "What do you think you've been doing, Velma?" she hisses.

"I… I don't… I don't know what you mean," I sputter out, completely astonished. "Marissa, it's Christmas. Let's just talk like normal. I need you. I need to talk to you and-"

My sister scowls at me through the mirror. "You _need_ me? Vel, listen to yourself. You sound pathetic. And the last thing you should be doing is asking me for favors." I hold my breath for every word she says. I've never heard her with this much anger or hatred in her voice. Her eyes narrow fiercely at me. "Not after you kissed that Slytherin boy."

I inhale sharply. "No! No, Marissa, please," I beg her. "It- He's not like the others. He's better and kind."

"You're defending him?" Marissa asks me incredulously. "Mom hated the Slytherins too. You're going against what she believed?"

I shake my head furiously. "That's not true," I sputter, feeling more like a helpless child by the second. "That's not true. Mom didn't hate anybody."

"She hated the way they talked about Aunt Iris being a squib!" Marissa seethes. "She hated the way they talked about how she married a muggle!" My sister narrows her eyes at me. "And she would hate what you've been doing with _him_."

"No…"

"And she hates what you did the night of the Battle of Hogwarts," Marissa hisses, her voice unnerving. "She hates that _you_ are the reason that I am dead."

"No!" I shriek.

I can feel the world around my cave in on itself, black suddenly zoning in on me. My fists pound the mirror, and shards of glass cut my skin, leaving bloody scratches on me. My pulse rises, and tears pour from my eyes. I can feel my heart tighten and tighten until it weighs down in my chest. Marissa's voice, accusing and blaming, still resounds in my head. She never ever sounded like this when she was alive. Never this cruel. She was always kind. It doesn't stop. She won't stop.

"Velma!" a voice suddenly exclaims.

My eyes snap open. I'm in my living room, lying face down on a pillow on the couch. I feel my heart still beating fast in my chest, and my breath is still choppy and uncontrollable. Panicked, I sit up and look around the room. Dad's tired grey eyes and Aunt Iris's stiff smile are there to greet me.

"Honey, welcome home!" Dad says as he bends down to wrap me in a hug. Despite my state of shock, I hug him tightly back.

Neither Dad nor Aunt Iris seem to have picked up on my tense mood. Aunt Iris rubs the top of my head. "Oh, God. I'm so sorry I couldn't pick you and Leigh up!" she apologizes. "Your father, he had…" Aunt Iris glances at my dad and awkwardly lets her voice trail off. "It's my fault. I should have-"

"Don't worry about it," I interrupt. Half of me is sincere, but the other half of me just isn't in the mood for another one of her excuses.

"Where is Leigh?" Dad asks.

"Um… the supermarket. To get food. I'm making dinner. I guess he isn't back yet," I answer awkwardly, still feeling disoriented.

"Well, in the meantime you'll have to tell us all about your schooling this year," Aunt Iris says as she takes a seat next to me on the couch. "Oh, your mother always said it was wonderful during winter. Then again, Florence said it was beautiful year round, but she always mentioned the snow-"

"I'm sorry," I interrupt again, standing up from the couch. "I'll tell you all about my year in a moment, but… I- I just need to go to the bathroom very quickly."

I'm running to the bathroom before either one of them can respond. I face the mirror and I slowly reach one hand up to touch it. What was that? A bad dream or a nightmare? A message from beyond the grave? Some delusional episode like the kind that Dad has?

"Come back," I whisper almost silently. "Please, come back. Even if you're going to just come to yell at me and hate me…" I press my forehead against the cold mirror. My hot tears hit the glass. "Just please come back."


	15. No Place Like Home

**Chapter Fifteen** **–** **No Place Like Home**

"Here's the plan," Leigh says to me over his bowl of oatmeal. "We go to the mall together while Aunt Iris stays with Dad. You buy for your friends. I buy for mine. We both buy for Dad, Aunt Iris, Uncle Conway, and the cousins. Next day, I go with Aunt Iris for you. Day after that, you go with Aunt Iris for me."

"Counter offer," I say through a mouthful of cereal. "I apparate to Diagon Alley. I buy for you, your friends, my friends, Aunt Iris, Uncle Conway, and the cousins. Aunt Iris stays with Dad while you go to mall and get a gift for Dad and me. That way we're done in one day."

"Counter counter offer," Leigh says, "We both go to Diagon Alley while Aunt Iris stays with Dad. Then the day after that we can get for Dad at-"

"No, stupid. The point is to get the shopping done all in one day," I argue. I point my spoon at Leigh. "You just don't trust me to buy gifts for your friends on my own."

"Obviously," Leigh sneers.

"I'd just get them some toy from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes," I argue, attempting to reason with him. "This wouldn't be so difficult if you'd just trust me!"

Leigh crosses his arms and sits back in his chair. "This wouldn't be so difficult if we didn't have to leave someone besides the dog to stay home and babysit Dad."

I stare at my brother sternly. "Leigh."

"Good morning, family!" Dad exclaims as he bursts into the kitchen.

"It's almost noon," I say brightly as I shoot Leigh a warning look from across the table. He nods at me apologetically.

"Sleeping in is good for you," Dad states as he tosses some leftovers into the microwave. "I sleep in all day. That's why I haven't lost any of my hair. How's being home again feel for you two?" Dad asks.

I nod. "It's nice to just be lazy all day."

"What about you, Lei-Lei?"

"Yeah, it's been great to not have to listen to Thatcher's snoring while I'm trying to sleep," Leigh says as he stands up from our dining table. He waves his wand over plates, and they float over to the sink to wash themselves. Dad gets up and snatches the plates from the air and hands them right back to Leigh. My brother takes the dishes awkwardly and frowns at Dad. "What? They were going to get washed."

"No, no, no," Dad says, shaking his head. "You're going to wash them with your hands."

Leigh crosses his arms and scoffs. "Are you being serious? Velma is in the house. I can use magic when I want."

"Don't give me attitude, Leigh," Dad snaps, deciding today he wants to act like a normal parent. "You can use magic when I say you can. Now just clean up after yourself like a normal person."

I watch as my brother bristles. His arms tense and his mouth forms into a scowl. "I _am_ normal, Dad."

I looked over cautiously at Dad. He doesn't notice Leigh's tension. It didn't take long for him to stop paying attention. God, he's so scatterbrained sometimes. Dad mutters something about spending the rest of the day in his office and to holler if we need him, but please don't need him because he has to get the edits back to Zoe by the end of the day, and Jesus Christ, someone needs to reteach her how to not use the passive voice.

Dad is an editor for a new website. It's good for him because it lets him be very meticulous and more importantly, it lets him work from the house.

Dad heads out of the kitchen with his plate of leftovers in one hand and a stack of papers in the other. As he walks out, Leigh glares at him, but when Dad doesn't give him the attention, Leigh pouts. I turn to my brother, eyes narrowed. "Will you stop acting like such a brat?" I say with all the authoritativeness that being a big sister allows.

Leigh runs his hand through his wavy hair. "Maybe I will if he stops acting like our magic makes us freaks," he mutters.

I don't respond to Leigh after that. On the one hand, Leigh is right. Dad is so uncomfortable with magic still. He always hates it when magic is used in the house and sometimes treats it like it's taboo. But on the other hand, Dad has a lot on his plate. He has a lot of roles to fill. I know he tries his best, even though sometimes Leigh and I become afterthoughts. Dad can't help it sometimes. I know he can't. All things considered, it's not bad.

My dad has to deal with bipolar depression and agoraphobia.

He started showing symptoms of bipolarity after Mom had died, but I think that Marissa always helped him. Always kept him in check. But when Marissa was gone and neither Leigh nor I were capable of helping him like our sister could, Dad sort of crashed. He has such high highs and such low lows. He has a tendency to be delusional and sometimes thinks Mom and Marissa are still alive. He hates leaving the neighborhood and most days he can't even leave the house.

I'll never forget the moment Dad's agoraphobia was diagnosed. It was the summer in between my fifth and sixth year, a little over a year after Marissa had died. Aunt Iris was out of town, leaving Leigh and me with Dad. It was apparent that something was wrong with him, but Leigh and I couldn't figure out what. We needed to go to Diagon Alley for school supplies, and we were both begging him to go out and come with us. Leigh and I didn't understand what was going on, so when we tried pulling him out of the house, Dad started screaming at us. We called the hospital that night.

"Your father is suffering from agoraphobia," the doctor had said to Leigh and me. I was only fifteen, and Leigh was twelve.

The two of us shared a nervous glance before I spoke to the doctor. "I'm sorry," I apologized. "What-a-phobia?"

"Agoraphobia," the doctor repeated, glancing down at some charts. "A social disorder that can lead to panic attacks when faced with crowds, open spaces, basically anywhere your father might feel a bit out of control. This explains why you both have been having so much trouble getting your father out of the house. After this summer ends, I'd recommend that one of you head home straight after school so that someone is-"

"We go to boarding school," I had interrupted the doctor coldly. Isn't there a rule against speaking so frankly to children about disease like this?

"I see," the doctor nodded. "Then I'd recommend getting him a home care nurse so that someone is always there to assist him."

I shook my head at him. "I don't think my family would be able to afford that."

The doctor peered at me over his glasses. "Yet you still have the means to be sent to a boarding school?" he asked judgmentally. Leigh made a noise from the back of his throat, and I could see him biting down on his tongue. I so badly wanted to jinx the doctor, but all I could do was shrug at him. The doctor frowned at me. "You should be putting more of an emphasis on your father's health. Agoraphobia is a serious condition. Coupled with his manic depression could lead to worst case scenarios."

"Can I ask a question?" Leigh piped up. The doctor and I both turned to him, surprised. He hadn't said anything the whole time we were here. "How…" Leigh had said, his voice barely above a whisper. "How did our dad get agoraphobia? Where did it come from?"

"Well," the doctor began, glancing down at his charts. "It could be for a number of reasons. It's different for each patient, but most likely it is from the stress caused by the death of his wife and the death of his daughter." The doctor looked up at us, a warmth in his eyes for once. "I'm very sorry for your losses."

Before I could say anything, Leigh blurted out, "What about genetics?" I turned to Leigh, horrified. I hadn't even considered that. Oh, God.

The doctor pursed his lips. "Yes, agoraphobia is often passed down genetically," he answered. "But… I don't think you two should worry too much."

Leigh practically shriveled up, clearly not receiving the answer he wanted. I had frowned at the doctor. "Why shouldn't we worry?" I had thought to myself. "It was his wife and daughter, but they were our mom and sister. Why shouldn't Leigh and I be worried about being just as crazy as Dad?"

I stare at Leigh from across the kitchen table. Leigh lets out a huffy breath and then goes to clean up his bowl, by hand as per Dad's request. Leigh has never said it outright, but I know that he still worries about genetics. Leigh sees a lot of himself in Dad. He looks just like him, but not only that. It's the stubbornness. It's their insistence on being independent. It's how they are both more sensitive than they like to admit.

Leigh leaves the kitchen, still in a touchy mood. I sigh and take a deep breath. With no one watching, I wash my dishes without magic.

v

A familiar looking barn owl lands on my open bedroom window. Its beady black eyes blink at me, waiting for me to come to my window, so it can give me the letter in its mouth. I set my book down and head over to it. The owl drops the letter into my hand and promptly bites me on the finger before flying at the window.

"Ow!" I exclaim, looking down at the cut on my hand. It was enough to draw blood. I stick my head out the window. "You dumbass bird!" I shout at the owl as it flies away. I slam my window shut as I go back into my bedroom to grab my wand. " _Episkey_ ," I cast. Choo-Choo chirps from his resting spot on my headboard. "I didn't mean you, Choo," I say as watch my wound slowly heal. "You can be clumsy, but you're not a dumbass. Now, let's see what I got."

I flip the letter over in my now healed hand. The front of the envelope reads 'The Whitt Family' in fancy calligraphy. I tear the paper open to find a Christmas card featuring all the Whitt siblings. Nan, Sharon, Orson, and Darcie. It's nice. They look like such a normal family. Of course, I know about how much trouble Darcie becoming a Slytherin has caused, but still here they all look so happy. Is that how all families are? Do we all just paint on the smiles for the crowds?

On the back of the card in Sharon's handwriting reads:

 _Velma,_

 _Sorry if the owl bit you after he delivered this. He only does it to people he thinks are weird losers. Ha! I hope you're having a happy Christmas. Try not to get too drunk on eggnog. All my siblings say hello. Tell Leigh I say hi. Orson also says hi to Leigh (he thinks your brother is cute)._

 _Sharon_

Despite rolling my eyes at parts of Sharon's note, I smile. I had gotten a card from Winona and Ellis earlier this week. Part of me is still hoping for a letter from Ames, but with Christmas approaching fast, it's unlikely. What would his letter say anyway? _'Thanks for the kiss. Wasn't it weird neither of us said anything about it after it happened? Ha, ha. Have a lovely Christmas_!' No, Ames would never write something like that. It'd probably be more subdued. ' _The kiss we shared in the snow was pleasant. I hope your holiday is pleasant as well.'_ Would he attach a photo with it? Who would it be of? Maybe just him and his… caretaker.

Not now. Don't think about Ames right now. Think of something else. Do anything else. I leave my room and start pacing around the house. I pass Leigh closed bedroom door; he's probably in there right now and sulking about how he can't go riding his broom. Dad's bedroom door is still closed. Working furiously, probably. There's one more door.

"Do I really want to do this?" I mutter to myself. Maybe some doors should stay closed. "This is a bad idea," I warn myself. I sigh deeply and step into my sister's old bedroom.

Nothing. Stripped white walls. An old bedframe without a mattress. Dusty wooden floor. Holes in the wall from pushpins. An empty bookshelf. Cardboard boxes of her things we couldn't bring ourselves to give away stacked in her closet. A window letting the afternoon sunlight stream in.

Marissa's room didn't always look like this. No one cleaned out her room for a year until Aunt Iris had noticed we'd left everything in there. After she died, Dad and Leigh wouldn't even step into her room; they could hardly even walk by it. But I was different. Late at night, while Dad and Leigh slept, I would sneak into Marissa's bedroom and just sit in the middle of the floor. It was exactly as she left it. Neat. Everything had a spot. Grey walls and Hufflepuff yellow curtains. Fairy lights strung up on the ceiling. Her bookshelf was filled with books about healing and muggle books like _The Big Friendly Giant_ and _Pride and Prejudice._ Maybe if she's Jane, then I'm Elizabeth. But I'm not Elizabeth, am I? No, if anyone were Elizabeth, it'd be Leigh. I'm probably the Mary of the family. But maybe if I'm Elizabeth, then Ames is Darcy.

God, why do I always keep circling back to Ames?

I could just be blowing this out of proportion. That kiss might have been nothing. Spur of the moment and meaningless. Kisses don't always have to be significant. Like that time during my second year when Ridley and I had kissed during a game of dare or dare. That kiss meant nothing! Granted, I did have a bit of a crush on Ridley for weeks after that happened, so maybe that's not the best example.

"What are you doing in here, honey?"

I spin around. Dad walks into Marissa's room and joins me at her window. He smiles at me with his tired grey eyes. I chew on the inside of my cheek. "I don't know…" I say honestly. "I'm just trying to think."

Dad looks around the barren room. His smiles hold steady. "Maybe not the best place to be thinking," he says. I shrug at him. Finally, Dad's smile warbles, and I watch him deflate. "I'm sorry that things are the way that they are, Velma."

"Dad, please don't apologize," I reply quickly, but then I don't know what to say. I'm sorry that things are the way they are too.

"I just want the best for you and your brother," Dad continues guiltily. He rubs the back of his head. "The two of you have had to go through so much, and I- God, I can't give you the best."

"You give us your best, Dad," I say, despite feeling lame and awkward about the statement. "Leigh and I… We've got each other, and we'll always find a way, you know?"

My dad doesn't say anything for a moment. He smiles at me again. "There's always a way," he repeats proudly. "You may be your mother's daughter, but you're a Caplan at heart, Velma."

Then I smile too. When I knew her, Mom was much more calm and mellow like Marissa, but Dad insists that when he first met Mom she was as fiery and impulsive as I am. "Thanks Dad," I say solemnly.

"Let's go down stairs," Dad says as he heads out the door. "Uncle Conway and your cousins have stopped by. I know you've all got presents to exchange."

My smile widens, and I nod. With only a week left until the 25th, it's finally starting to feel like Christmas.

v

Through my dream, I manage to hear someone knock on my bedroom door.

"Velma…?" Dad's voice calls from the hallway. "Velma, honey, I need your help."

I open my eyes slowly. It's the middle of the night on Christmas Eve. We always go to bed earlier on Christmas Eve to be awake for Church early in the morning. My clock reads 11:23 pm. What is Dad up to? Maybe he wants me to help with a surprise for Leigh. Maybe he's having an episode. "Dad?" my sleepy voice croaks as I get out of bed and grab my wand. "What's going on? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Of course, honey," Dad says as I open my door. "I just, hah, I realized we didn't get a Christmas tree. I mean, how did we forget a Christmas tree?"

"Dad, what's going-" I flip on the hallway lights. Dad's hand is cut and covered in blood. "Oh, my God…"

"No, no. Don't worry. It's just a little- a little scratch," Dad tries to assure me. It's a bad cut. Deep, almost making his entire hand a dark red. "C'mon, Velma, help me get the tree."

"Did you cut down the tree in our front yard?" I ask, averting my eyes from his hand. It makes me nauseous to look at it.

"Soon I will have!" Dad exclaims happily as he starts heading for the front door. "You have to help me, Velma. My hand is getting a little sore."

"Dad, no," I say as step outside. It's a cold night. "Here just give me your hand. I'll heal it up for you."

"What? No! Just get your sister. Isn't Marissa better at the healing magic than you are?" Dad asks me, looking the evergreen in our front yard up and down. There's a saw about a sixth of the ways in the trunk.

"What...?" I whisper, still trying to process everything that's happening. Why does this always happen? Why can't Dad ever keep it together? And why can't I be a better daughter and be more understanding when he doesn't? I look up to the starry sky, feeling hot tears pool in my eyes. "No, Marissa is- Marissa is-" Word keep getting caught in my throat. Dad still examines the tree. "Dad. Daddy, listen to me," I say, practically begging him to pay attention to me. "You have to remember. Remember what the doctor said. Do you remember? Do you remember what happened to Marissa?"

Realization dawns on Dad, and I watch as his face falls. "Oh… D-delusional. Yes, I remember," he mutters.

"I'm sorry, Dad," I apologize, trying my hardest to keep my voice steady. "Here I'll fix your hand right now, and I'll get a tree tomorrow, so you don't have to cut this one down."

I reach down and take Dad's bloody hand. God, it's warm. How does Dad suddenly slip so fast? Wasn't he fine last night? The tip of my wand rests in Dad's palm, but before I can cast anything, Dad pulls his hand away. "Don't touch me with that thing,"

I look at my own hand; it's been stained maroon with his blood. "You're hurt. It'll only take a second," I insist.

"No, I don't want to use magic!" Dad shouts at me.

"Dad, just give me your hand!" I shout back.

"Velma?" a voice says uncertainly. My next door neighbor, a kind older lady. "Is everything alright, dearie?"

Damn. We must've woken her up with all this shouting. Even if I could talk Dad down now, I can't use magic in front of her. I try to block Dad from her sight. "Yes, Mrs. Shapiro. Everything is… it's alright. Just-"

"Oh, heavens!" she interrupts me. "What happened to your father's hand?"

"It's fine…" Dad says through gritted teeth, seething with frustration.

"Here, come inside my house," Mrs. Shapiro offers. "I'll get this wrapped up for you and then you can-"

"Don't touch me!" Dad shouts at Mrs. Shapiro, throwing his hands up. The sharp movement causes the wound to reopen itself again, and fresh streams of blood gush on his arm and hand.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. This isn't good. I can't do this by myself. "Leigh!" I call out towards the house.

"William, please settle down," Mrs. Shapiro says to Dad, fear rising in her voice.

"I said, get away from me!" Dad hollers, probably waking up more families in the neighborhood.

"LEIGH!" I shriek.

Leigh bursts out of the house. He's wearing nothing but my slippers and his flannel pajama pants. He looks as frazzled as I feel while his curls fall over the place and he scrambles to pull his sweatshirt over his head. His eyes are full of sleep, but I see him quickly scan the situation. "What's going on?" he asks.

"Dad is having an episode," I frantically explain, trying to hold tears back. "Go down the street and get Aunt Iris over here. He isn't listening to me." Leigh doesn't waste a second and takes off running to Aunt Iris's house.

v

The events that followed happened fast.

Leigh came back with Aunt Iris. Aunt Iris had to call the hospital. The ambulance blared its siren. The entire goddamn neighborhood woke up. Dad left for the hospital.

Now I sit with Leigh on the couch in the living room. My brother stares blankly at the turned off TV. I watch him carefully. Leigh's eyes are opened wide like a little kid's, but at the same time you can still see the anxiety in them. You can see the bags beginning to form under his too awake eyes. How can someone look so young and so old at the same time?

"Is Dad crazy?" he finally asks, breaking the silence.

"Well…" I begin, choosing my words carefully. "Technically, since actual definition of crazy means the person has-"

"Velma, you know what I mean," Leigh cuts me off forcefully.

I swallow hard, feeling my stomach twist into knots. "I don't know," I answer truthfully.

Leigh shakes his head. "I'm going to end up like him."

"Like what?" I counter, wanting to come to Dad's defense, even though I've thought about being like Dad more times than I'd care to admit. "A dedicated father? Hard worker?"

"No," Leigh says, his voice lowering to a whisper. "Crazy."

"Leigh, stop," I say, pretending to not notice the tears in his eyes or his runny nose. "Besides if one of us is going to go crazy it'd be me."

"That's not comforting," Leigh replies.

"Well, insanity probably only happens once in a generation, so you've got nothing to worry about," I continue, half of me joking and half of me sincere.

"You're not being funny, Velma," Leigh retorts angrily. "I'm really scared."

"Alright," I huff as I stand up. "I've had enough of this."

"Enough of what?"

"This. You. Your self-loathing. C'mon, let's get your mind off it. Let's… I don't know, ease the tension," I offer, trying to find something – anything – that'll make this night more tolerable. "What should we do? What do _you_ want to do? Board game? Fly around on your broom?" Leigh stays silent, but I'm determined. "Fine then. I'll make us some hot chocolate."

I stand up and march to the kitchen. I quickly make two mugs of hot chocolate (with marshmallows). Even though I'm tempted, I don't use magic. It's the way Dad would have wanted me to do it.

With a mug in each of my hands, I head back to the living room, but my brother isn't there. "Leigh?" I call out.

"I'm in here," he answers. I follow my brother's voice to Dad's bedroom. Leigh is there sitting under the covers of Dad's master bed. I don't know why, but the fact that Dad sleeps in a master bed has always made me a little sad. I wonder if Dad ever gets lonely.

"Alright," I say to Leigh as I sit next to him. "One for me and one for you. Much better, isn't it?" Leigh nods but doesn't say anything. He stares forlornly down at the steaming drink but doesn't take a drink. "Shit, Leigh…" I sigh, feeling defeated. Feeling like the worst big sister. "I'm really trying."

"I know you are," Leigh says, looking back to me. "But tonight just kind of sucks. Maybe we should just leave it and go to bed or something. There isn't a lot that can fix it."

I twist my mouth up, trying to make a decision. "You know what? I have an idea," I say. " _Accio_ alcohol." After a few seconds, a bottle of vodka flies into my open hand. Aunt Iris doesn't like to keep alcohol in the house, but Dad's somehow found a way around her rule.

"What are you doing?" Leigh asks me, his eyes opened wide.

"I'm making this night," I say as I pour the vodka into our mugs, "a little more bearable for the both of us."

Leigh looks at the spiked hot chocolate uncertainly, but he slowly brings the cup to his lips. Right after taking a good-sized sip, his face scrunches up, obviously disliking the vodka.

"It's not great," I laugh. Truth be told, I'm struggling to not grimace after drinking from my mug too. I only ever drink when an adult allows it. God, alcohol is disgusting. I don't understand why Ellis drinks so much.

Both of us suppress our dislike of the alcohol and drink together. The hot chocolate mostly masks the taste of the vodka, and both the warm drink and the booze heats my throat as it goes down. After a moment, I notice Leigh looking at a framed photograph on Dad's dresser intently. It's one of the pictures that made it into the album that Winona had given to me. The one of my parents on their wedding day.

" _Accio,"_ I cast as I flick my wand. The picture lands in front of us on the bed. "You look a lot like Dad, Leigh."

"Yeah, I just have to remember to stay a little bit saner than Dad and maybe I won't get bags under my eyes like he has," Leigh quips. I glare at him. "Sorry," he quickly apologizes. "I'm just… I'm just angry, which is stupid because I know Dad doesn't decide to be this way, but..." Leigh trails off and shakes his head, unable to find the right words.

"You don't need to explain," I say. "I know how you feel."

Leigh takes another gulp from his mug and looks down at the photo again. "You look like Mom, Vel," he states.

"What? Don't be stupid. We all look like Dad," I argue. Dad's grey eyes. Dad's tan-olive skin. Dad's dark, think hair.

"Well, you look more like her than I do," Leigh says. That's true. I have Mom's angular heart shaped face and pointy chin as opposed to Dad's rounder face. "And more like her than Marissa did," Leigh adds. Also true. The only thing Marissa got from Mom was some of Mom's blue to make Marissa's blue-grey eyes.

"Remember when Mom's chemo made her bald?" I ask, smiling.

"Kinda."

"She thought it was funny," I reminisce. "Her hair was all over the house. I remember you said you thought she should keep it shaved once she got better."

Leigh nods. "I agree with my younger self. Mom probably would've looked badass."

I nod along with him, but can't help but feel the lingering sadness that Mom's death still has. "Cancer sucks," I mutter.

"You're right," Leigh responds.

"Do you remember what Mom said to you?" I ask as I turn to Leigh. "Right before… _it_ happened."

"Yeah," Leigh says, nodding as he sips from his mug. "Be good to each other."

"I remember that, but I meant the thing she said to us individually," I say. I remember mine like it was yesterday. Mom had called all four of us into her room one at a time and said something to us. She held my hand and whispered in to my ear. I recite out loud, "'You have a good heart, Velma, and nothing is more powerful than determined girl with a good heart. I am always with you." I smile forlornly at the memory. "That's what she said to me," I explain to Leigh.

"Oh, that…" Leigh says, rubbing the back of his neck. "God, I remember that. It was… It was…" Leigh scrunches his face, trying to remember. Part of me is annoyed that he can barely remember. I've held Mom's words with me every day; this should matter more to him. "'Don't let your spirit die, Leigh. Let your soul shine bright. Be brave. I am always with you,'" Leigh finally says. His voice is dreamy and confused. Maybe it's just the vodka… or maybe it's something else. He swallows hard. "I wonder what she said to Marissa."

I shrug and take a big gulp of hot chocolate. "Too bad we can't ask her."

"I miss her."

"I know. I miss Mom too."

Leigh grabs the remote from Dad's bedside table and turns the TV on. _A Charlie Brown Christmas_. He lets a moment pass, but then he says, "I meant Marissa."

I smile as the kids on the TV begin to sing ' _Christmas Time Is Here_.' "But you still miss Mom, right?" I ask.

"Well, yeah, of course," he responds, an odd uncertainty in his voice. "I just… I don't miss Mom like I miss Marissa."

"What does that mean?" I question, turning sharply to my brother. He looks down at his mug, refusing eye contact with me. I nudge him on the shoulder. "Leigh, you don't miss Mom?"

"I mean…" Leigh begins. He sighs heavily. "I do, but I was only four when she died. I didn't know her like you and Marissa did, you know?"

"Do you… not remember her?" I ask in disbelief. I can't believe he's never told me any of this before. I can't believe I've never considered that Leigh doesn't remember Mom. It makes sense that he wouldn't; he was so young when she died. But not realizing he never got to know her like I did makes me feel like a terrible, awful big sister.

Leigh presses his lips together. "Not really," he admits. "It's all bits and pieces."

"Can you remember the sound of her voice?" I ask, hoping, almost praying that he remembers something – anything – about her.

"Sometimes," he answers. "It's like… a dream. When you try to remember it, it slips away. The last thing she said to me is the only thing I can really hear her saying."

I stare at my brother in disbelief, horrified and pitiful. "How come you never told me that?"

"It never seemed relevant," he says as takes another drink from his almost empty mug. "Sometimes I think I miss the… idea of having a mom more than I miss our Mom… and I know that sounds terrible for so many reasons, but… I don't know. It's how I feel. I know Marissa always tried her best to kinda fill the role of the mom, but… she wasn't our mom; she was our sister. And it wasn't fair that she had to be both. I never appreciated that she did her best to be both, and I really regret that because now she's gone." Another drink from his mug. "So we have neither."

I stare at him quietly. "Are you drunk?" I ask.

"Maybe a little."

"Oh…" I sigh. "You're growing up too fast, Lei-Lei."

"Yeah, well whose fault is that? It wasn't my idea to spike our hot chocolate," Leigh retorts snottily. I whack him upside the head and turn back to the Charlie Brown special. Lucy is acting as Charlie Brown's therapist. "Velma," Leigh whines, tugging at my pajama sleeve like a little kid. "Hey, Velma."

"What?" I ask, exasperated.

I turn to him and see Leigh's baby face staring back at me. He looks at me, his eyes uncharacteristically sober. "You know that I love you, right?"

"Yeah…" I say, smiling. "I know."

"That felt weird to say," he laughs. Another pause. "Marissa never had trouble saying it."

"I know."

"I miss her."

"… I know." I look at the digital clock on top of Dad's TV. It flashes 12:14 AM. "Look at that," I say to Leigh, gesturing to the clock. "Christmas morning. Merry Christmas, little brother."

"We can try our best," Leigh answers as he clinks his mug against mine. "Merry Christmas, Velma."


	16. In the Middle of His Sentence

**Chapter Sixteen** **–** **In the Middle of His Sentence**

"Your assignment today," Potter announces, strutting about the classroom, "is one of my favorites to not only do, but teach as well. However, it is also one of the most difficult things to accomplish altogether."

I steal a glance from over my shoulder to the Slytherins. Ames is there, his blue eyes watching me carefully. An 'Ames-smile' comes across his face, with one corner of his mouth turning up ever so slightly, and while I had planned to give him a soft smile, I panic and turn away abruptly. Kane notices my awkward movements and leans over in his seat to nudge me with his shoulder.

"You feeling alright?" he asks me.

"Peachy."

"Your holiday okay?"

"It wasn't bad."

"Your dad remember me this time?"

"Unlikely. I didn't ask."

"Velma and Kane," Potter says in the middle of his mini-speech to shut the two of us up. It really is lucky for Kane and me that Potter likes me, or else he would've failed us a long time ago.

"Sorry," Kane and I chorus together.

"As I was saying before I was so _rudely_ interrupted," Potter jokingly scolds us. "The Patronus Charm is an incredibly difficult one, even without a Dementor present. Now, how many of the people here have successfully performed the incorporeal Patronus Charm?" A few people around the room raise their hands. Potter scans all the students, nodding slightly; his gaze falls on me a little longer than others, and I can see his surprise that my hand is not raised. "Alright, then how many people have made a corporeal Patronus?" Only a handful of people raise their hands. "Really?" Potter addresses the class, surprised. "Today will be extra interesting then. In any case, who can tell me what you need to perform the Patronus Charm? Oka, yes?"

"You need to have a happy memory, right?" Oka answers, twisting a piece of her hair between her fingers.

Potter stands, his green eyes bright and his dark hair sticking up. "Happy?" he repeats manically. "Just happy? No! No, you need elation and joy and blithe and jubilance and delight! C'mon guys, I checked for the words in a thesaurus for this bit! You all dig deep. Find that memory that'll get you to the charm." Potter waves his wand. Our chairs are suddenly pulled out from under us, and our desks shrink, making the room completely open. "No need for partners today! Everyone spread yourselves out, and show me those animals!"

Everyone rises and stands in clumps of friend groups. Winona and Kane meet up in a corner. When they notice me, both of my friends signal for me to come over, but I decline them with a wave of my hand. I don't want them to watch me do this. My class begins their attempts at the spell; meanwhile, I just stand there staring at my wand. I need to at least try. I'm not afraid to fall on my face a few hundred times. Everyone seeing me crash, that's what I'm afraid of.

" _Expecto patronum!"_ I hear from across the room. We all turn to see this wonderfully bright ball of light leave Sharon's wand. The ball rolls around in the air for a bit until it forms a hedgehog. Everyone, Gryffindors and Slytherins alike, watches in wonder as Sharon's hedgehog scurries about in the air exuding a bright blue light. It circles Sharon once, and then slowly dissolves into mist.

"Did you see that…?" Sharon says in a breathy voice. A smile creeps on to her face and joy bursts out of her like a firework. She throws her hands in the air and then throws her arms around Ellis and Ridley. "I did it! Did you guys see?"

"Excellent work, Sharon!" Potter exclaims, applauding. "The rest of you, catch up! The house that can produce the most corporeal Patronuses by the end of class gets ten points."

Potter goes around the room, helping people one on one. I look down at the ground, frustrated at myself. Happiest memory. Christmas morning with Marissa and Leigh when Mom was still alive and Dad wasn't crazy? Approaching Hogwarts for the first time with all the lanterns lighting the way? Kissing Ames Fremont in the middle of a blizzard?

" _Just try,_ " I remind myself.

" _Expecto Patronum!_ " I shout, waving my wand in the air. A dusty blue light emits from my wand; it forms itself into something like a cloud, but before it can take the shape of an animal, the light disappears with a small _poof_. "Damnit…" I mutter.

"Having trouble?" Professor Potter asks me. I smile faintly at him, unable to hide my embarrassment. I can see the disappointment in his face. I'm not going to deny that I'm the teacher's pet in this class; Potter is The Boy Who Lived, who wouldn't want to be his favorite?

"Just a bit," I admit.

He nods, calm and understanding. "It's a hard spell," he says.

"I heard you learned it when you were twelve, though," I argue.

Potter grins at me a little, but seems abashed that I know that about him. I immediately blush; the last thing I want Potter to know is how much of a fan I was of him when I was younger; I never stopped pestering Marissa for questions about him. "I was thirteen when I did my first Patronus, actually," he corrects me. "Don't focus on me right now, Velma. Focus on you. Let the memory fill you up. You don't have to remember every minute detail, but remember how it felt. Remember the essence of the memory and hold on to it."

" _But it hurts to remember_ ," I want to explain. " _It hurts to remember a time when my family wasn't broken, and when Hogwarts wasn't the site of the biggest disaster I've ever lived through, and when life was simple and I wasn't complicated, and when I kissed a Slytherin. It hurts to think about and I'm not able to do this spell. I can't do it and I'm sorry._ "

But I can't say any of that to Professor Potter. Not to The Boy Who Lived. How can I look my hero in the eye and explain that I'm weak, when he's survived the worst that life can throw at a person? How can I say anything like that?

So instead I smile at him and say, "I'll keep trying."

Potter gives me one last warm smile and walks away. I watch the rest of my class. Winona's swan glides through the air for only a few moments at a time before fading away. Sharon keeps summoning her hedgehog, each time it rolls around more and more. A panther from Walt leaps about the room, jumping over other Patronuses. Ellis makes a hummingbird that darts around and leaves a trail of light behind it, and Kane's rhino (honestly, a goddamn, full sized rhinoceros) takes a few huge stomps before crashing into a wall.

Even the Slytherins have made great process. A bear prowls around Holt, pausing for a moment to growl at Charlotte's jellyfish. In return, Charlotte frowns at her jellyfish, a bit confused that her Patronus is a jellyfish. Dwight grins as his hyena bounds around the room, floating higher up than any other Patronus.

In one corner of the room, Lorelei watches her cat rub against her leg, while in another, Violet summons a dragonfly. A large, fluffy dog that I don't know the breed of runs in circles around a gleeful Ridley. Renata makes a lioness that pauses to roar toward the sky, and even Oka has managed to create a mouse. Animals of all kind fill the room, and nearly everyone's face is lit up by either blue light or joy. Cries of excitement are heard from everywhere, followed shortly after by Potter's shouts of encouragement.

I stand alone toward the corner of the room, my wand laying uselessly in my hand.

v

" _Expecto Patronum!_ "

More unshaped blue fog. Damn. I'll try a new memory. Um… The first time I used my magic? I was sitting in the front yard with Marissa and Leigh; I couldn't have been more than six. We all heard the ice cream truck's music drive by, and right when the money from Dad's hand dropped into mine, I somehow apparated right in front of the ice cream truck. I bought myself a Strawberry Sundae Crunch.

" _Expecto Patronum!"_ I cry out. The blue is lighter this time, and it's shining. It swirls in the air, and I see something small being formed by it. The light clears and-

The Room of Requirement's door creaks loudly as it opens. My nearly there Patronus suddenly disappears and replacing it is Ames strolling in the room.

"Damn it!" I shout, nearly throwing my wand. "Damn it, damn it, damn it! I almost had it! God! I almost had it! Don't distract me like that!"

"Sorry," Ames says awkwardly as he tosses his stuff down. "I… I wasn't sure if you'd be in here."

I still haven't brought myself to make steady eye-contact with him. Even immediately after the kiss had happened, I couldn't look at him. In fact, I apparated back to the castle so fast, he didn't even get a chance to say anything to me.

I let out an annoyed breath, still angry at him for interrupting me. "I require the room, Ames," I hiss. "I _need_ to figure out how to make my Patronus." I need to know that I'm still capable of feeling this kind of pure happiness. I raise my wand again. Strawberry Sundae Crunch. " _Expecto Patronum!_ " I shout. Nothing this time, not even fog. Damn. I stare down at my hand holding my white aspen wand. Why can't I do this? Why can't I be happy anymore? I toss my wand to the side. "Forget it," I mutter. "Just forget it. I can't do this."

"Hey…" Ames begins as he heads over to me. He reaches down and picks up my wand for me. "Don't say that. Just take a moment to breathe. You're too in your head."

"I can't do this."

"You can."

"I can barely manage a Boggart-Banishing Spell!" I shout at him. Ames jumps back a little, not expecting my harsh tone. I snatch my wand out of Ames's hand. "How am I supposed to make a Patronus when I can't even do that? It's… It's hopeless. I'm pathetic."

"It's not pathetic," Ames tries to assure me.

I hiss, "Okay, well, as someone who _can_ do her nonverbals and is at the top of the class, it's pathetic." Right as the words leave my mouth, I regret it. I didn't need to say that. Taking a shot at Ames's nonverbals is less than unnecessary.

Ames takes a deep breath and looks at me frankly. "We're going back to this kind of thing, are we?" He asks bluntly. "And here I thought that we've been making great progress."

"I'm sorry," I apologize, staring down at my wand. "I'm just really frustrated."

"Can I help?" Ames asks.

"Can you do it?" I respond, looking back up at him. "I didn't see yours in class."

Ames tosses his bag to the side and spins his dark Walnut wand in between his fingers before getting into position. His eyes close, and he takes control of his breathing. Ames raises his wand high, and in a clear tenor he half-shouts, half-sings, " _Expecto Patronum!"_

A bright burst of blue explodes from his wand. The light is so strong, I have to squint my eyes for a moment, but when I reopen them, I see a blue fox running around above us. Isn't this a little unfair? As seemingly apathetic as Ames is, he manages to do this spell so powerfully; while no matter how emotional I am, I can't seem to do it at all.

"I didn't want to sing in class," Ames explains after a few moments of watching his Patronus in the air. "I was too embarrassed."

"You're a fox…" I mutter as the last of his Patronus fades away.

"Yeah," Ames says, "it's because I'm foxy." I turn to look at him slowly. What the hell did he just say? The soft half smile he wore fades away, and he averts eye contact from me. "I… Um…" he mutters awkwardly. "That was meant to be joke."

"Sure, it was," I answer skeptically, feeling strange trying to joke with Ames. He looks back at me, and I smirk. "It's because you're suspicious."

"Don't stereotype me," Ames laughs as he nudges his shoulder against mine. He suddenly reverts to his typical seriousness. "Will you try again?"

"… I'll try."

"Alright," he responds quietly, the tiniest grin forming on his face. "There has to be a reason you're having trouble with this spell. The only other spell I've seen you have trouble with was the boggart, and you had trouble with that because… Well, you know." Ames watches me expectantly, waiting for a response. I manage to mumble out something close to 'I don't know.' Ames takes a step closer to me. "Velma, you've just got to talk to me," he insists. His blue eyes soften. "It's just me."

"Too many memories are stained," I hear myself blurt out. "I can't remember family memories without feeling the loss of my sister or my mother. I can't think about Hogwarts because now it's just the place where my sister died. I just-" My mind finally catches up to my mouth, and I manage to slow down the flood of words. "I just can't do it."

Ames lets my proclamation hang in the air for a bit. I curl my toes in my shoes and pinch the bridge of my nose. He looks away from me. His expression I can only describe as pitiful. "I'm sorry you feel that way," he whispers. His eyebrows furrow. "I should- You should know that…" He turns his head to the side, closing his eyes and looking away from me. I watch him as he recollects himself and then as he relaxes himself. "What about a memory with Hurst and Long then? The three of you must have something together. Find one when you're away from the castle," he continues, the sudden shift of his voice almost jarring. "Or maybe a memory with… Someone else away from the castle," he adds, his voice full of insinuation.

I choose to ignore the last part of his statement. "I've tried," I say, "but you're right. It's my best bet right now. I'll try a new memory."

I hold up my arm in position, but Ames reaches up to readjust my wrist. The most minuscule adjustment. His hand lingers there for a moment, and I feel his hands gently graze mine. I can feel myself blush, but at the same time, I can't help but feel annoyed. Jesus Christ, Ames. You're not slick. I can see what you're trying to do.

"And yet, you're not stopping him, are you?" a tiny voice in the back of my head reminds me.

"You can do this," a quiet voice whispers to me. I don't know if the voice is Ames whispering or another internal voice of my own, but either way, it doesn't matter. I _can_ do this.

I shut my eyes and begin to remember.

During a quiet summer. It was in between my third and fourth year. It was before Marissa had died, and before Dad stopped keeping it together. I can't even remember where we were, or what we were doing, but I just remember that Winona, Kane, and I got to spend the day together. At one point, the three of us were outside, lying the grass. I remember staring up at the light blue sky, watching the clouds. I remember the feeling of the sun warming me and the blades of grass tickling my feet. I hadn't even considered this memory before since it's just so quiet, exuding peacefulness rather than happiness. I can barely even recall most of that day. I do remember at that moment I wondered if this is what forever is supposed to feel like.

My eyes snap open.

" _Expecto Patronum!"_ my voice resounds.

A bright, blue light shines from my wand. I watch in wonder as it takes the form of a bird. A crow. It soars through the air, wings outstretched, until it lands on one of the highest beams of the Room of Requirement. The crow glances down at me from its perch, tilts its head at me, and then suddenly dissolves.

"I did it…" I whisper, feeling my eyes widening. "Oh, my God… Ames, I did it!" I start jumping around the room. Jumping for joy, like I'm a little kid. I hadn't realized that I didn't think I'd be able to do it. I hadn't realized I had such little faith in myself. "Ames, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" I exclaim. I take him by his forearms and grab them tightly, like I'm trying to hold myself to the ground. "I couldn't have done this without you."

He shrugs, but takes my arms into his hands as well. "You could've," he says as he carefully slides his hands into mine. Damn. He's smoother than I thought. He gently rubs his thumb in circles on the inside of my palm, which makes it embarrassingly difficult to stay focused. My heart's pace quickens, and I lamely attempt to conceal the wobbly smile on my face.

Wrong. Wrong. This is all wrong. I pull my hands away from his as casually as I possibly can, which (admittedly) isn't casually at all. "Um… Let's not- Um. Anyway, thank you, Ames. Really. You were really helpful," I sputter out in broken thoughts. Ames watches me with a Slytherin's smirk, like he's entertained by me floundering around trying to find my words. Seeing that condescending grin on his face makes my blood boil. This. This is every reason why we can't be together.

"Can I ask what your memory was?" he asks me, my mind unable to unfocus from his smirk. His voice matches his expression, and he uses that dumb high and mighty voice that I hear when we're not alone.

I narrow my eyes at him. "If you're trying to ask if it was the moment on the bridge, the answer is no," I snap. "I'm afraid your kiss wasn't that life altering, Ames."

Once he sees how annoyed I am, Ames's sly expression melts into his more common neutral one. He rubs the back of his neck. "I just wanted to know what your happy memory was, Velma."

"Oh."

"And just for your information, that kiss isn't what makes my Patronus either," Ames continues defensively. He sighs and shakes his head. "You know… I was hoping that our meeting was going to be… different than it is."

" _I guess we're doing this now_ ," I think to myself. I shrug at Ames. "What were you expecting?"

"I suppose I was expecting it to mean more to you."

"What did it mean to you?"

"Do you really want me to say it?" Ames asks, his voice full of frustration. He sighs and his expression softens a bit. "I assumed it meant… the beginning of something. I was just really happy."

"Happy," I repeat incredulously, examining Ames's detached face. "Yeah, it really shows."

"If the kiss didn't mean anything to you," he continues, ignoring my sarcasm, "what were you thinking then?"

"I was thinking that…" I begin, but like so many times before, the words are getting caught in my throat. " _I thought_ -"

"You thought _what_?" Ames presses.

"Well, I wasn't thinking!" I shout. "When I kissed you-"

"I kissed you," Ames interrupts me.

I blink a few times. "What?"

"You didn't kiss me. I kissed you," Ames says like he's stating an undisputable fact.

"No, you didn't," I retort, sounding like a child in an argument. "I kissed you."

"No," Ames shoots back, "you kissed me on the cheek, and then I kissed you."

My mouth hangs open for a moment. If this weren't so awkward, his deadpan would be hilarious. "W-well, fine," I concede, raising my hands. "Whatever."

"If you weren't thinking when I kissed you," Ames continues, his face serious, "then what were you thinking when got to the bridge?" God, what was I thinking? All I can recall was the realization of how I feel about Ames. I'm not even sure if I actually _know_ what I felt. Is there a term for feeling blinding confidence and desperate confusion at the same time?

I look up at Ames helplessly. He looks down at me, his mouth neutral as ever, but his eyes somber and sincere. "You came to find me," he says. "It meant a lot to me. What Winona Hurst said that night… It's not the best thing to hear about yourself."

"She didn't mean it," I say, instinctively coming to Winona's defense.

The corner of Ames's mouth is turned up, but his eyes remain melancholy. "Yes, she did," he responds factually. A beat passes by, and I don't know what to say because he's right. Winona was honest that night, and I doubt she even regrets it. I doubt she even thinks about it. "You don't see me like that, right?" Ames asks. "Not anymore?"

"Of course not," I answer quickly, almost offended that he would even need to ask me that. "I thought it was a nice kiss. A nice moment." Ames nods, obviously pleased with himself. "But that's all it was. A moment."

Ames takes a step towards me, closing the gap between us. His blue eyes lock in on mine. "It only takes a moment," he says as he takes my hands.

A hot blush suddenly rushes to my cheeks, surprised at his sudden turn of the mood of the conversation. "Stop it, Ames," I order, but even as forcefully as I say it, I can't manage to pull my hands out from his.

"Stop what?" he asks innocently. His thumb resumes running in circles on my palm. He gazes down at me, his mouth still neutral. Everything is in his eyes.

"Stop looking at me like that," I say, my voice clear but still shaking.

The corners of his mouth turn up to make his familiar quarter smile. Familiar barely there smile. Familiar cloudy sky eyes. "This is how I've always looked at you," he responds, his voice barely above a whisper. My heart beats loudly in my chest like it's threatening to suddenly burst out. Ames glances down at my mouth and then back up into my eyes. "Can I kiss you again, Velma?" Ames asks me in the gentlest voice I've ever heard from him.

I can practically feel inhibitions melting away. With each passing second and with each circle that Ames draws on my palm, I'm closer to letting him kiss me. It would be so easy to give in to him. To give into his burning stare and his silvery voice and his mouth that I've hypothesized God himself designed just for kissing.

But what about everything that would come after? The question, the debate, the problem that continues to plague Ames and me: how could anything like this work between a Slytherin and a Gryffindor? Hasn't that feud lasted since the founding of Hogwarts? Hasn't the animosity lasted through two wars and been the cause of losing countless lives? Shouldn't I just save myself the time and the heartbreak and cut him off now before it's too late?

I force my hands out of his. "No," I finally answer, false certainty in my voice.

Ames's face hardens a little, but all in all stays the same. He nods at me. "Okay," he says.

Neither of us say anything then. We sit in our awkwardness, both of us waiting for the other to know what to do next.

"I should go," I finally croak out. "I… I told, um, I told Winona that I'd meet her before dinner."

He nods again, slowly. "Okay," he repeats quietly.

"Okay…" I echo, as I begin to gather my things and head out of the room. He remains sedentary. I force myself to look back to him. "Ames," I say as gently as I can, "I-I'm sorry."

Ames's head jerks up a little, snapping out of whatever daze he's in. His eyes are different now. Now with a new clarity that he didn't have before. He stares at the ceiling. "I really don't like it when you apologize to me, Velma," he says in a husky voice. He sighs and then rubs his eyes. "Maybe… maybe you're right about us. I think you're right."

"Yeah," I answer. I feel guilty; part of me wishes that Ames had kept persisting and fought for me. Is it wrong to only want what you can't have, or is that how people are just by nature? I peer up at Ames, and attempt to give him my most convincing smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."

I turn on my heel and face the forming door before he can respond to me. I don't trust myself to stay in control of myself for a second longer with him. I should leave today and never come back. I should've never come looking for Ames – looking for trouble – all those months ago. What would my friends say about this stupid, stupid secret? What would Leigh and Marissa say about him? What would Mom say?

What would I say, if I let myself walk away right now?

The door fully forms, but I slowly turn back around to Ames. He quickly rises from the sitting position he's dropped himself into. As I walk back toward him, he frowns at me. "Velma, you don't need to explain-"

The moment I reach him, before he can even finish speaking, I wrap my arms around his shoulders and pull him to me into a deep kiss. I can feel his surprise at first, but then I feel his body relax and his mouth respond to mine. His hands rest on my hips, and he pulls me close to him.

If Ames's kiss in the middle of the snow was enough to make me warm, then I swear this kiss must be enough to melt me. We balance each other out well. While my kisses are quicker and nearly frantic, his kisses are deeper and in a set rhythm, like he's playing music. Music. I swear I can practically hear music while his mouth is on mine.

Eventually, the kiss starts to slow down. Our lips separate and I find myself an inch away from Ames's face. His eyes are tense, and he watches me cautiously. I roll my eyes at him and give him a last quick kiss on his lips before letting go of his shoulders. Ames twists his mouth up and slightly tilts his head from side to side. "I gotta say," he says, "I'm really getting mixed signals here."

"Yeah, now you know how frustrating it is," I laugh. Ames almost smiles then, which makes me feel guilty about what I say next. "I just wanted to do it one last time," I explain, my voice quiet. God, I'm a selfish, heartless bitch. "I couldn't forgive myself if I couldn't just kiss you one last time."

Light leaves Ames's eyes. Watching his confidence fall is like watching a balloon slowly deflate. "You… You still don't want me?" he asks me desperately.

"It's not a matter of wanting to or not!" I exclaim, frustrated. Not necessarily frustrated at Ames, but maybe more frustrated at myself. "You're no fool, Ames. I don't need to explain it to you."

"Explain it," Ames responds casually. I give him a questioning look, and a playful glint reflects in his eyes. "You'll stay here longer if you explain it."

"God," I laugh, despite my best efforts. "You're relentless."

"It's a Slytherin thing, I think. Ambitious. I tend to get what I want," he replies. His eyes lower and the corner of his mouth turns up ever so slightly. "What's wrong? Are you scared, Gryffindor?" he challenges me in a husky whisper.

I never knew that I could ever want to both punch and kiss someone so badly at the same time. I push him away from me, and I force eyes to be dead serious now. "I'm not kidding, Ames," I order, trying not to sound angry. Once again, the confidence disappears from Ames's body language. He observes me with apologetic eyes. I shake my head at him. "Everything that we are together is a bad idea," I continue. "And I know that neither of us needs that kind of weight on us right now."

Regardless of all the rejection I've given him today, a glimmer of hope still shines in his eyes. He takes one last step towards me. "Are you sure?" he asks me.

"I'm not," I reply honestly. My fists ball up and all the conflicted voices in my head return, nearly drowning out my own. God, what is the right thing to do? "Just give me time to think about it," I say. "I really need to go now, but I just need a little thinking time." More and more guilt washes over me as I offer him hope yet again. I grab my things, and this time make definitive line to the exit.

"Velma," Ames calls out to me, his voice oddly strained and sharp. I freeze in place, but don't turn back around to him. "There's something you should know," he continues.

At that, I turn back to him, making sure that my feet are firmly on the ground and will not run back over to him to kiss him. His jaw tenses while his hand rubs the back of the neck. I nod at him. "What?"

He takes in a deep breath. "The night of the b- of…" he trails off. Ames closes his eyes tightly, and his hand reaches up to rub his eyes. "The night we kissed," he restarts, his voice now a bit lighter. A frustrated sigh leaves his lips, and he stares at me with stoic eyes. "It was what made my Patronus today."

My face stays stern and I nod at him affirmatively before walking out the door.

The moment I turn around, an uncontrollable grin spreads across my face, and I can't manage to get rid of it until I fall asleep.


	17. The Lee Debate

**Chapter Seventeen** **\- The Lee Debate  
**  
Even though you'd never hear me admitting it to him, Leigh is a pretty good brother.

It's not like Leigh and I are the perfect sibling pair, but for the most part we genuinely like spending time with one another. And even when Leigh and I do fight, our anger never lasts for more than a day or two. Well, maybe when we were younger our anger would've lasted, but with Marissa as a mediator, things never got out of hand.

I personally think that siblings should get along at least 75 percent of the time. After all, the whole point of siblings is to have someone to play with while you're on a family vacation. If you don't like them, then what's the point? Leigh and I always make an effort to make time for each other and spend at least one activity together during the weekends. Whether it's studying side by side in the common room or watching him fly around the Quidditch post, there's always Caplan sibling time.

Obviously, it was Marissa who began the tradition that we decided to carry on.

This weekend, Leigh and I decide to eat breakfast together. Thankfully, he doesn't insist on me sitting with his group of fourth year friends. I don't say that because I don't like the people he hangs out with; they're all good kids, but there's just so many of them and they're all so loud. Unlike the Gryffindor based friend group I have, Leigh's massive friend group is comprised of at least one boy and one girl from each house (Slytherin notwithstanding, obviously). Besides, Leigh's always liked my friends, and my friends like Leigh. Also I think it gives Leigh an ego boost whenever he hangs out with students his senior.

Winona, Kane, and Leigh talk and laugh about Quidditch, which allows me to silently contemplate my ongoing Ames argument. The argument has been running in an endless loop in my head for the past week. Yes. No. Maybe? I could always break up with him, but what if I don't want to? What if he breaks up with me and breaks my heart even more? What if my friends find out? What if? What if? What if? What if everything goes right, and he's everything I've ever wanted?

The lively conversation between my friends and my brother suddenly dies down. I snap out of my internal turmoil and turn to see what they've noticed. Angelo, a tall, lanky Ravenclaw in my year, is walking towards us. Winona glances up at him, expecting him to approach her since he's also a Head Boy, but instead he veers towards Leigh. l glance at Winona, but she shakes her head, not knowing what's going on.

"Lee Caplan?" Angelo asks my brother.

"It's pronounced Leigh," my brother replies.

"What?" Angelo responds, frowning at Leigh. Angelo's permanent scowl etches even deeper on his face. Angelo looks older than he is. Already with a receding hairline and frown lines on his forehead and between his eyes, he gives off the vibe I would expect to come from Benjamin Button.

"Leigh Caplan," Leigh reiterates. "That's me, but my name is pronounced like lay down."

Angelo glances down at a piece of paper he's produced from his pocket. "L-E-I-G-H?" he spells, glancing at Leigh skeptically. "Are you sure that's not pronounced Lee?"

My brother stands up, his short fuse now evidently lit. "I should know; it's my own name!" Leigh exclaims, but his voice then shifts into something closer to annoyance than anger. "And how do you pronounce sleigh then? Slee?"

Angelo considers Leigh's argument. "Fair enough," he concedes.

"And do horses go neigh or do they go nee?" Leigh continues.

"Alright, Caplan," Angelo fumes, irritation rising in his voice. "You've made your point."

Leigh is about to open his mouth again, but I stand and step in front of him to shut him up. I've heard many variations of this argument before; he's about to continue this argument using the word 'weigh'. "Excuse my little brother," I apologize. "He can be a bit sensitive."

"l'm not sensitive..." Leigh mutters in the whiny voice of a youngest sibling.

"Was there something you needed?" I ask Angelo, ignoring Leigh.

Angelo glowers at Leigh. "Well, we received reports that your brother snuck into the Ravenclaw common room last night," Angelo states. Winona, Kane, and I all turn sharply to look at Leigh. Winona looks at him with disappointment; Kane looks at him with an odd pride, and I stare at my brother in surprised anger. "I assume this was news to the three of you," Angelo continues after seeing the three reactions we display.

"Here's the thing," Leigh begins, hands in the air as if he were surrendering. "Yes, I did, but-"

"No, 'but's!" Angelo interjects. "It is against basic school rules to enter another house's common room!"

"In my defense, your password was far too easy to guess," Leigh responds in a snarky voice. I roll my eyes. Only my stupid little brother would think that would be a good thing to say 'in his defense'.

"Ooh, what was it?" Kane asks before Angelo has the chance to continue chastising my brother.

Leigh grins mischievously. "Carrol's 'why is a raven like a writing desk' one."

"Notes! They both make notes!" l exclaim before I can stop myself. I'm proud to know the answer. Calix would always make a big deal about how hard the riddles could get; he once told me he had to sleep outside with a group of friends our first year when no one knew the answer.

"It doesn't matter the level of difficulty our riddle was that day!" Angelo hisses. "There is absolutely no excuse for entering a common room that is not your own. I will be reporting you to Professor Flitwick, so expect a meeting with him soon!"

"Angelo," Winona says to him in a calming, rational voice, "what did Leigh do while he was in there?"

"I was literally just reading with Aria and Novak!" Leigh complains. Dumbass should really think about using a different tone of voice with Angelo, considering how much trouble he's in.

"Hey, you be quiet!" Angelo snaps at Leigh. My brother then proceeds to cross his arms and pout. Angelo turns back to Winona. "I mean, yeah, I guess he was messing with our books."

"Well..." Winona continues, her voice still gentle. "Since no real harm was done and because I am the Head Girl in charge of Mr. Caplan here, maybe we could keep Professor Flitwick out of this and just let me take care of it."

Angelo considers Winona's offer. He lets out a deep breath. "Alright," Angelo finally compromises; even he is not able to direct anger at Winona. He points an accusatory finger at Leigh, "But if ever see him in the common rooms again-"

"You won't," Winona says with a reassuring smile. Angelo glares at Leigh for a beat, but then heads back to the Ravenclaw table a second later. The moment he's gone, Winona drops her professional Head Girl persona and chomps into a huge bite of breakfast burrito. "You owe me," she says to Leigh after she finishes chewing.

"Winona, you rock!" Leigh exclaims. "I can't believe you got me out of that!"

"You aren't entirely out of it," Winona says as she dabs her mouth with a napkin. "You can't just get caught for something like that without consequence." A sly grin appears on her face as Leigh's face drops. "l think the seventh year Gryffindor boys would really appreciate getting their bathroom cleaned, wouldn't they, Kane?" she asks. Kane flashes Winona a grin; usually Walt cleans the bathrooms, but lately he's been letting the boys live in their own filth.

"No way!" Leigh argues. "You can't make me do that!"

"l'm your Head Girl," Winona hisses. "I can make you do what I want." Her face and voice suddenly soften again. "But if you really don't want to, you don't have to," she says.

"Really?

"Yeah. I'll just tell Ellis to not let you play in any of your lowerclass Quidditch matches for the rest of the year."

"You know what?" Leigh says, his attitude abruptly changing. "I'm going to cancel my plans with my friends for today and get started on the bathroom right now!" He immediately gets up and heads over to his group of friends.

"It's too bad you're an only sibling, Win," I say once he's out of hearing range. "You handled my shit little brother really well."

"Man, l wish I had a little brother," Kane laughs as he looks over his shoulder to see Leigh jog upstairs, presumably to the Gryffindor common room. "Breaking into the Ravenclaw common room - that's gutsy. l respect that."

"Please," l scoff. "That girl Aria and his other Ravenclaw friends helped him get in there. Had he gotten in on his own and without getting caught - that would be gutsy "

"You're just jealous because Leigh still knows how to sneak out and have fun," Kane teases. I glare at him, but then Kane glances around the room and leans in from across the table towards us. "Win, Vel," he whispers suspiciously, "we should sneak out tonight."

Winona and l share an amused glance. Sneaking out was how we solidified our friendship with Kane our first year. It was the year of the Triwizard Tournament. We had nearly double the amount of students, and while the teachers tried their best to maintain order, the excess of students only made it easier for little things to go unnoticed.

Believe it or not, it was Winona, not me, who first had the idea to sneak out of our dorms in the dead of night. This was all before Winona's obedience beat out her curiosity, and before I was pissy and somewhat jaded. One night in early September, before Win and I really even knew each other that well, we decided to head up to the tallest tower to get the best view of the grounds (and maybe even what was beyond the grounds).

"lt's so weird being in the castle at night," I had whispered to Winona as we tiptoed up the winding staircase.

"Just stay quiet," Winona had whispered back. "If we wake up any of the paintings, it'il be a disaster."

Winona and l grinned at each other then, our smiles more shaky than confident. Winona went ahead of me as the passage narrowed, and I followed close behind. Right as Winona turned around to say something to me, someone else came barreling down the steps, crashing into Winona. The two would've ended up tumbling down the steps had I not been there to stop their fall. The three of us flew backward and then lied on the stone floor of the staircase, holding whatever body part we had landed on.

The person - a boy - who had crashed into us slowly sat up, rubbing his back. "Holy shit," he had sworn. "What just happened?"

l sat up as well, rubbing the back of my head. The combined force of this boy and Winona had knocked me flat on my back. I looked at the boy in front of me. It was that loud Asian kid who was a Gryffindor with me. I couldn't remember his name off the top of my head. I'm really bad with names, but l do remember a few things about him: talking loudly in class, goofing off in class, being annoying in class.

"What are you doing here?" I had asked him accusingly as l jumped to my feet.

The boy (Kyle?) jumped to his feet as well to look me in the eye. "What does it look like l'm doing?" he retorted. "l snuck out! I wanted to see the rest of the castle. And don't get so high and mighty on me! You're clearly sneaking out as well!"

Even though he was right, I glared at the boy. "We're not sneaking out!" I had lied, probably unconvincingly. "We-we're running an errand for the Prefects trying to find others sneaking out! So I'd suggest you'd change your tone-"

Winona then shakily stood up, speaking for the first time since the boy's entrance. "Give it a rest, Velma," Winona had groaned. "Both of you stop bickering and help me!"

Both unnamed boy (Cole?) and l gasped when we finally looked at Winona. Winona held her hand in front of her face, but the blood streaming down from her nose was still evident. When boy (whose name l'm almost positive starts with a 'k sound) collided with Winona, she must've landed on her nose and broken it. Blood dripped onto the floor, and while the boy and l began to panic, Winona remained calm.

"Tilt your head back!" the boy shouted.

I had slapped him on his arm. "Don't be stupid," I hissed. "You tilt your head forward, or the blood will go down your throat."

"l don't know any spells to fix this!" he had exclaimed. "What have we learned? Levitation charm? Can that help in any way?"

"Wait, wait, wait!" I had exclaimed, putting my hands up in the air. "I know the spell to fix this! My big sister had to do it when my cousin accidentally ran into a wall! I've heard her do it before!"

"Can you do it?" Winona asked me, her hand still trying to catch the blood that fell from her nose.

"I think so?" l had responded uncertainly. I thought it would be best to leave out the fact met my big sister was a fourth year that was advanced in healing spells.

"Then do it!" the boy had hollered at me.

l quickly grabbed my hand and haphazardly waved it in the general direction of Winona's nose and squeaked out, "Episkey!" The next sounds that followed were a small crack and Winona's crying. My spell had backfired, and somehow broken her nose even more.

The boy and I had to assist Winona back to our common room. We fabricated some lie about Winona getting up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night and then slipping and falling on the hard tile. No one ever suspected us of sneaking out, and a friendship between the three of us had been formed.

Recalling the memory makes me smile. I turn to Winona, who frowns at Kane, still annoyed at his suggestion to break the rules. I remember she had to go to Madame Pomfrey to get her nose repaired. You'd never guess that her perfect, turned-up nose was ever broken. She was a bit mad at us after the incident, but I'm sure she's gotten over it by now. Hopefully.

"I'm not about to sneak out, Kane," Winona says, as she stands up from the table. Kane and l both follow suit. "You know how bad it would look if the Head Girl got caught sneaking out."

"We don't get caught then!" Kane continues as the three of us walk out of the Great Hall. "Besides if the Head Girl is on our side, who's gonna catch us? Getting past the Prefects was always the hardest part of sneaking out, right? I mean, it's not like Walt is gonna rat us out."

Winona rolls her eyes at Kane. "Maybe he would."

"Can't you just go with Ellis or Ridley or something?" I ask Kane as the three of us wait for the staircase to line up to us correctly. "Don't you want some guy time instead of hanging out with Winona and me?"

Winona grins impishly. "You obviously must get sick of all the times Velma and l discuss lip gloss and bras, right?" she jokes, nudging Kane with her arm.

"Maybe you should go spend time with some testosterone."

Kane wrinkles his nose at us. "Nah, it wouldn't be the same without you guys. Besides," he continues, throwing an arm around both of our shoulders, "no amount of testosterone could break these bonds of friendship."

l grin up at Kane, thankful for his friendship, but conversely, Winona frowns at him. "Either stop talking about testosterone or let go of me," she says gravely.

Kane opts to stop talking about testosterone, and even though as we get closer and closer to our common room, the stairwell gets narrower, we walk arm in arm until we get there. When we finally reach our room, we find Sharon and Ellis leaning against the wall, having a conversation with the Fat Lady.

"So..." Sharon says hesitantly. "Do you have a real name or are you just called the Fat Lady?"

"Such a cruel name, I know!" the Fat Lady dramatically responds, putting her hand to her forehead. "I know the man who painted me had only good intentions, but still. There's so much more to me."

"Yeah, l'm sure," Sharon responds skeptically. Luckily, the Fat Lady is too preoccupied to notice her tone of voice.

Ellis, charming as ever, gives the Fat Lady his trademark blinding smile. "Well, would it help if we gave you a name?" he asks, his voice bright and sincere in contrast to Sharon's. "We'd help you pick it!"

The Fat Lady sighs and produces a white lace handkerchief to blot her makeup. "Alas!" she wails. "It wouldn't work! My naming was set once my paint had dried. I can't go changing my title now, no matter how much I want to."

"Um, sorry to interrupt," Kane thankfully interjects, "but we need to enter."

"Oh!" the Fat Lady exclaims, promptly ending her miserable mood. "Of course! Password?"

"Key lime pie," Kane recites to the Fat Lady. As the door swings open, he turns to glare at Winona. He thinks she assigns the stupidest passwords. He steps in with Sharon and Ellis. I follow close behind, but Winona grabs me by my elbow, signalling for me to stop.

"Coming in, dearies?" the Fat Lady asks us in her bright voice.

Winona bites the bottom of her lip. "Um… maybe," she says. She leans in confidentially to the painting. "Do you know if Walt Stay, the other Head Boy, is in the common room right now?"

"Is he the handsome one with the dark hair?" the Fat Lady asks. Winona rolls her eyes, but nods. "Oh, yes he's in here!" she responds. "Heading in to talk to him?"

"No, sorry," Winona quickly calls over her shoulder as she suddenly begins heading down the hallway. "I just remembered I have to do something. Come on, Velma!"

I give the Fat Lady a hasty apology before jogging down the corridor to catch up with Winona. "What was that?" I ask once I reach her. "Win, where are we going? I thought you needed help with that Charm."

"I do," she responds, wrapping her ponytail into a messy bun. "I just decided I wanted to study in the Room of Requirement instead."

My blood turns to ice. "We-we're going where?" I sputter out.

"Room of Requirement," she repeats. "I know it's around here somewhere. Vel, do you remember which wall is the one that-" Winona turns to me and catches the glassy eyed expression on my face. She tilts her head at me. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong!" I answer too quickly. She frowns at me, her bullshit detector blaring sirens in her head. "I- It-it's just…" I babble, looking for the right words. Any words. "I haven't been in back in the Room since… That night." Winona's confused expression turns into a sympathetic one, which makes guilt rise up in me. "A-and you know," I mumble out my lie. "That night was difficult."

"I didn't even think of that…" Winona says apologetically. A loud crack reverberates in the hallway, and the Room of Requirement's door appears for us. Winona glances from me to the entrance. "We don't have to work in there," she quickly says. "C'mon, let's head back to the courtyard or down to the-"

"No," I interrupt, feeling terrible for lying to my best friend. "It's fine. Let's study in there."

She frowns at me. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," I respond, managing to force a grin as I step into the room. "What's a Gryffindor if not brave, right?"

Once in the room, Winona walks in circles around the room while I watch her tensely. I know there's no way she could figure anything out about Ames and me just by being in our room. Is there? Will Winona walk over a certain tile and somehow know that's where I kissed Ames? Can Winona's bullshit detector pick up the scent of a lie? But thankfully, she ends my panic when she stops strolling around the room and stops near the wall. Still, I feel oddly defensive about her being here. You're doing it wrong, I want to say to her. If you stand there, you have to lean on the wall like Ames does. Jesus. How did that Slytherin boy manage to make me feel so out of place with my best friend?

Winona steps away from the wall and pulls her elegant cherry wand out of her pocket. "Ready?" she asks. I nod at her. She raises her wand, swishes at and casts, "Aguamenti," but instead of a large puddle, only a thin mist flies out from her wand. Winona frowns at her work and turns to me. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong," she says, grimacing.

"I think your wrist is too tense. Try it like this," I explain, moving my hand in curves instead of dashes.

Winona imitates my hand and retries the spell, but only a few droplets are produced. She frowns at me. "Still nothing."

"I don't know what to tell you, Win," I say, shrugging at her. "Why don't we just go back to the common room and ask Walt. You know he's the go-to for Charms." Winona crosses her arms and huffs, blowing up a tuft of blonde hair that fell from her bun. "What?" I question her.

"Walt and I… We aren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment," she admits hesitantly.

"Seriously?" I groan angrily. "That's really immature of you, Winona. I know you're mad that he's dating Lorelei, but that's not a reason that warrants the silence treatment."

"You really think I'd be that childish?" Winona retorts, offended. Just when I think she's going to lose her temper on me, her face falls into a somber expression. "It's not me. It's him. He… He just stopped speaking to me. I think Lorelei's asked him not too."

"That doesn't sound like Walt."

"Well, it doesn't sound like Walt to be dating Lorelei, does it?" Winona snaps at me.

Part of me wants to shrink away from Winona's glare, but another part of me wants to grab Winona by the shoulders, shake her, and scream, "You can't be angry at Walt if you are the one who rejected him before he asked out Lorelei! You can't! It doesn't work that way!" Instead, I take the calmer approach. "Win, don't be jealous," I state frankly.

Crap. By my own logic that would mean I wouldn't be allowed to get jealous about Ames if I say no to him, and he gets back together with Renata. Hateful, demon-spawn Renata. I can barely even imagine Ames - the sweet, kind Ames I know now - dating Renata. But Ames is no fool; he wouldn't have dated her if he hadn't seen good in her. So I have to assume that Walt is the same way, and he must see something good in Lorelei.

But even keeping that in mind, it's hard to imagine what that would be.

The other day when Kane and I were headed into our common room, we heard Lorelei's unmistakable shrill giggle. Kane and I nodded at each other, and together we stealthily looked around the corner to see Walt sitting in the windowsill seat with Lorelei sitting in his lap. He held her by the waist while she had her arms wrapped around his shoulders. I shared a knowing glance with Kane, and we both crawled over to a couch that was the perfect distance away to eavesdrop on them without getting caught.

"Wally," Lorelei had giggled, twisting a piece of her strawberry blonde hair, "what are we doing together after school on Friday?"

Walt grinned softly at Lorelei, but his voice had a distinct note of nervousness in it. "Oh, actually, I was meaning to tell you," he had said. "I don't think I'll be able to be with you on Friday. I promised Hannes that I'd help him with a few Charms, and then I have a meeting with the Prefects and with-"

"With Winona?" she had interrupted. Her voice was challenging, daring him to choose Winona over her. I noted her gentle eyes and pouted lips. Lorelei really knows how to be manipulative, and Walt is right where she wants him.

A stiff laugh came from Walt. "Winona is the Head Girl," he had responded awkwardly.

Lorelei swung her legs off of Walt and hopped onto her feet. Poor Walt jumped to his feet as well, following her actions blindly and watching her nervously. "I just wanted to spend some time with you," Lorelei had said, "but if you'd rather be spending time with Winona Hurst then by all means-"

"You know that it's not like that," Walt had insisted, taking Lorelei's hands into his. She gazed up at him with perfected puppy dog eyes and Walt sighed in defeat. "I'll see what I can do to get out of it. Okay, Princess?"

As Lorelei squealed and pulled Walt into a kiss, I turned to Kane in disbelief. "Doesn't 'Princess' seem like a very non-Walt like term?" I asked.

"You would think so, right?" Kane had responded. He grinned at me mischievously. "Do you think Lorelei has ever called Walt 'daddy' or something?" I physically had to force vomit down. Walt's big brother instincts have definitely earned him the title of 'the Mom Friend', but imagining Lorelei calling him that is nauseating.

Since the memory retroactively makes my stomach sick, I come back to reality where Winona is still fuming over the insinuation that she is jealous. "Please," she scoffs, each words she says gaining more and more anger. "I am not jealous. I'm concerned for our friend. You can't deny that this relationship isn't good for him!"

"But he's happy," I argue, guiltily not caring about Walt right now and only thinking of myself and Ames. "Maybe… I think that should matter more, right?"

"Is he happy?" Winona questions, squinting at me. "You know how wrong they are for each other."

Man, angry Winona is so difficult to reason with. "Walt has made Lorelei more tolerable," I say with a pointed look on my face.

Her shoulders slump back a little, and I watch as the resentment melts away from her face. "Maybe," she reluctantly admits. Her face hardens again, "but what does Lorelei do for him?"

Winona looks away from me, her question apparently rhetorical, and goes back to attempting to create water. Meanwhile, I ponder her question, but again, selfishly insert Ames and myself into the scenario. What does Ames do for me? When I'm with him aren't I more honest? More open? Aren't I happier? Is it him that's magical, or is it just the privacy of the Room creating an illusion? God, I can't pretend like that's a legitimate question; standing here in the same room with Winona instead of Ames gives me a clear answer.

Still, I can hear my head asking, pleading, begging me to stop. It screams at me, trying to tell me that this is a bad idea. That this is illogical. That he is not worth lying to my friends and risking so much. That there are too many ways I can get hurt by this Slytherin.

But in another voice, in a tiny whisper, my heart reminds me how I felt when I held his hand.

Jesus.

v

For the first time in a week, I walk into the Room of Requirement to meet Ames. He stands up abruptly when he sees me, his face giving a hint of surprise that I'm here. I glance behind him to see a piece of parchment with the ingredients to a potion scribbled on it. It's idiotic, but I feel jealous that he's just working in here. It's like nothing more than a room to him, when it's far more than a room to me.

"Hi," I say awkwardly.

"Hello," he responds. I look at him closely. It's been awhile since I've been able to scan his face like this. What is he thinking now? Happy to see me? Nervous? Have I waited too long to respond, and is he now indifferent? "So," Ames continues, still unreadable. "You performed well in class today."

I nod a little, my uncertainties keeping my guard up. "Thank you," I reply hesitantly. Class has always been really awkward for us, but this last week was worse than it had ever been. We had just learned advanced curses, and giving our class a reason to throw curses at each other was a recipe for disaster. Usually I go all out during DADA since it is my best subject, but striking Ames in the chest with a curse felt wrong since I was debating whether or not to break his heart. I purposefully shot a weaker curse at him that barely even nudged him when it hit him.

Ames had frowned at me. "That was your pathetic excuse for a curse, Caplan?" he had faux-taunted me in that snobby Slytherin voice he gets when he's around his friends. But through his harsh yet monotone voice, I heard his real concern. We both knew I shouldn't go easy on him in class; doing that could raise suspicions, especially when the rest of the class is cursing each other like there's no tomorrow.

I was about to send him a sympathetic look when Kane suddenly appeared next to me. "Are you just gonna take that from him?" Kane had hollered, jabbing a finger in my shoulder. "Kick his ass, Vellie."

"Like she'd be able to," Ames muttered with apologetic eyes. I glared at Ames, and with a wave of my wand had him flying through the air in a matter of seconds.

I feel bad about flinging him across the room now as I note a bruise on his arm. The landing was pretty rough. Ames rubs the back of his head, like he's remembering the crash again himself. "I don't think even Potter was expecting you to cast something like that," he continues casually.

"I guess not…" I mumble.

"And you know I'm sorry about how I acted when Kane Long came around," Ames adds. "I just said that because- Well, you know why. Anyway, I'll need to review that curse before the N.E.W.T.s. I'm sure you'll have no trouble with any-"

"Ames," I finally interrupt. "Do you really want to be talking about that curse right now?"

He stares at me open mouthed for a beat but then lets out a heavy sigh. "No," he admits. "I'm sorry. I talk a bit when I'm nervous, and… I'm nervous." A shy quarter smile finds its way onto his face. "You just knock me off my feet, Velma. Both physically and literally."

He stares at me with earnest eyes, somehow letting an unasked question hang in the air. It's now or never, I suppose. This is the last chance I get. Once I choose a path to walk down, I know there's no going back.

But it's not like any of this has been a real argument. It's not like my decision wasn't clear from the beginning.

I take a deep breath, butterflies tumbling around in my stomach. I turn to the floor, unable to look at him. "Yes," I somehow manage to say.

Silence follows. I keep my head to the ground, still too nervous to look at Ames. "What?" he finally asks, his voice showing genuine surprise, maybe even genuine happiness. I hadn't realized he'd braced himself for the worst.

"Yes," I say a little louder now, forcing my eyes to meet his. His mouth is neutral, but his eyes are awake and tell me everything he's never said.

More silence. What is his deal? Shouldn't he be happy? Shouldn't his lips be on mine? He takes a step toward me and puts his hand on my chin, tilting my face up to his. "Say it one more time," he says, that familiar tiny smirk spreading on his face.

"Yes," I reaffirm, any trace of uncertainty vanished from my voice.

He moves toward me and presses his forehead to mine. "Really?"

"Really," I answer, closing my eyes and letting my smile take over my face.

Somewhere in the distance, violins play.


	18. Play

**Chapter Eighteen** **\- Play**

As expected, Ames and I becoming an unofficial couple has been a little awkward to say the least.

"Expelliarmus!" I shout, the power of my voice translating into my spell. The white light hits Ames's wand and sends it flying out of his hand. My friends cheer me on, while the Slytherins shout angrily at Ames for being disarmed so quickly. I move forward to Ames, my wand pointed at him. He slowly raises his hands, conceding victory. Ames gives me his version of a dirty look, but his eyes send me a congratulations.

"Settle down, everyone!" Potter shouts at our classmates. I have to feel bad for Potter; despite his best efforts, not much has changed between the Gryffindors and Slytherins. In fact, some of the relationships in our class might have gotten worse. Potter sighs, "Ames, work on your nonverbals. You're capable of more, and I do expect improvement from you next time."

Ames sends me a pointed glare, which I nearly laugh at. "Of course, Professor," he responds coolly.

"But Velma," Potter continues, his face lighting up as he turns to me. "Very well done disarming charm."

"I know it's a personal favorite of yours, sir," I reply.

"Hey Velma!" Dwight calls out from the crowd. "Stop being such an ass-kisser for once, would you?" Many of the other Slytherins hoot at me in agreement, but instead of focusing on them, I glance at Ames. He laughs along with his friends warily. I know he's only doing it to keep up appearances, but it still isn't the best feeling.

I look away from Ames and back to Potter for support. His green eyes flash with anger and I watch as he drops his professor persona and slips into the fighty Boy Who Lived that Marissa always described. But before Potter can say anything, Kane shouts out, "Hey Dwight! You can shut up unless you want my foot up your ass, you little mother-"

"Alright, Kane, that's enough," Potter interrupts, reverting back to his teacher persona. "All the rest of you quiet down! Mr. Lewandowski, you've cost your house twenty points. Mr. Long, you've cost the Gryffindors ten."

Class settles down and continues on normally from there, and by the time I get to the Room of Requirement, I've practically forgotten about the incident with Dwight.

Ames's face instantly softens when he sees me step into the room. "Hi," he greets me as he walks toward me.

"Hey," I respond. Before I can say anything else, Ames pulls me into a kiss. Even though the kiss is short, it still manages to make my heart want to fly out of my chest. He pulls away from me, his arm still around my waist; he looks as content as ever, as if we've done this a hundred times before. "Well…" I begin awkwardly, still a little surprised. "That was… something."

Ames looks down at me, his eyebrow ever so slightly lower on his face. "Something… good?" he asks.

"Yes."

He doesn't say anything after that.

But after the beat passes, his arm leaves my side to rub the back of his head. He gently laughs. "You know, when I get nervous I get talkative, but when you get nervous you kind of shut down on me."

"Yeah," I laugh awkwardly. "My mind kinda either works at a million miles an hour or not at all. Not a lot of in between."

Ames offers me his version of a smirk, making me feel like what I've said was completely endearing instead of incredibly awkward. "Anyway," he continues, moving back over to his Herbology book. "Um. I'm sorry about class today. Dwight can just get a little… insensitive."

"Psh, insensitive is a word for what he is, but don't worry. After seven years, I've gotten used to it."

"No, this time is different."

"Look, I don't hold it against you. I barely even care about what he said," I try to assure him. Dwight is not what I want to be talking about right now. Not with Ames. I only get so much time a day with Ames; I'd rather talk to him about anything else (or just kiss him more, kissing him would be good as well). "Dwight is a prick, honestly."

" _No_ ," Ames says back forcefully. I stare at him until he finally looks up from his book. Though still in his neutral expression, his eyes are hard. "That's why this time is different. Velma, I know you don't like my friends, but Dwight is a good guy."

My mouth lowers. "You're defending him?" I scoff.

"Not exactly," he insists, the frustration clearly showing on his face. "I just want you to know that he isn't always the way he is around you."

I shake my head at him. "It sounds like you're defending him."

Ames takes a moment to carefully think out his next statement. "I'm not defending his words… but I'm defending his personality."

Personality? What good personality traits does Dwight Lewandowski have? Egotistical? Hateful? Sadistic? But instead of screaming all this at Ames, I give him benefit of the doubt and simply ask, "What's he like then?"

He shrugs, saying each word warily. "He's fun. Hot headed. Probably more sarcastic than he is sincere. A bit like your friend Kane."

I close my eyes and wave my hand in the air, as if I'm physically knocking that last suggestion away. " _Please_ don't compare Dwight to Kane."

"Why?"

"Because…" I whine, aware that I sound like a child. Instinctively, I want to just play the 'he's a Slytherin card,' but even though that might be enough for _my_ friends, it might be the worst possible thing I could say to Ames. I sigh. "Because I can't stand Dwight, and Kane can't stand Dwight, and Kane is my best friend!"

"Well, Dwight is my friend," Ames states, factual and straightforward as ever, contrasting my immature, passionate shouts. He crosses his arms. "I'd also like to add that Kane Long hasn't been the kindest to us."

I take a step towards Ames. "I don't want to argue with you about this now."

"And I don't want you thinking my friends are assholes," he argues, still calm. Infuriatingly calm.

"Are they even your friends?" I shoot back, forcing him to uncross his arms. My hands slide down his arms and slip his hands into mine. "Didn't even they treat you like a pariah?"

"Yes, because they knew that it was _me_ affiliated with the Death Eaters," Ames deadpans. He still holds my hands. I would be put off by the tension he's created, but he's begun rubbing that familiar circle on the inside of my palm, calming and distracting me. I stare up into his eyes, which reflect the dark gravity of the topic. "A lot of us had Death Eater parents," he continues, "but I think you too easily forget that I was the one working with them." I look away from him, but his lowered voice bores into my ears. "It wasn't Dwight. It wasn't Charlotte. It wasn't Renata. It was me."

I pull my hands out of his. "But you didn't want to be, right?"

Ames lowers his eyes and rocks back and forth on his feet, still hesitant as ever to talk to me. "No. Not one bit," he finally answers. "I did it to please my mother."

Part of me relaxes, but I keep my defenses up. "Did you actually do any work for them?" I ask him coldly.

"Barely anything," Ames responds, clutching his hair. "I ran messages to another boy working for them once or twice," he continues, shrugging. He glances up at me, a serious look in his blue eyes. "And, you know," he adds, "I was supposed to kill you."

"Well..." I say, unsure if I should be amused or be afraid of Ames's deadpan. I gently take back one of his hands. "We've come a long way, haven't we?"

"Yeah," Ames says, his voice still distant. We stand there for a moment, Ames staring off into the distance, while I wait for him to say anything. But he doesn't. Instead, he just sits back down on the floor, pulling me down to sit with him.

I frown at him, watching his eyes scan his text book. He wraps an arm around me, and I rest my head on his shoulder. "Why do I feel like you never tell me the full story?" I ask him.

"Because I don't," Ames says almost immediately, "and trust me," he adds, a frightening darkness in his eyes, "it's better that way."

v

"You got this."

"I know I do."

"Win…" Kane whines. I watch from the couch as Kane tries to get Winona's attention. Instead of paying attention to him, Winona admires herself in the mirror, making the last adjustments to her Quidditch uniform. Kane tugs on her blonde ponytail. "C'mon, we gotta do the pep talk. We always do the pep talk. We need the luck today."

"Don't let Ellis know that you're banking on luck today," she quips as she bends down to touch her toes. "He'll go into the speech about 'not needing the luck if we've got enough training.'"

Kane nudges her butt with his hip, almost knocking her to the ground. Winona flips up and glares at him, but Kane holds the insistent look on his face. "Win," he says seriously, "we gotta."

She rolls her eyes at him, annoyed but ready for their pre-game pep talk. As God awfully corny as their speech is, I know that doing it means a lot to both of them. They face each other. "You got this," Kane says to her.

"You got this," she repeats back, squaring her shoulders to his. They go back and forth repeating cliché phrases to each other to psych themselves up. I roll my eyes as they then finish their speech by punching down on each other's shoulders and knocking foreheads together.

"God…" I groan as we all leave the common room to get to the Quidditch pitch on time. "I can't believe I'm friends with such jocks."

Winona grins at me slyly. "You know that I just do it for nostalgia sake."

"You only do it for nostalgia…?" Kane asks, obviously hurt. "Win, no… You gotta do it for real, or else we'll lose the game."

"Don't be so superstitious, Kane," Winona sighs.

"Okay, first of all," Kane retorts, glaring at Winona, "that's racist-"

Winona glares at Kane. "Um, what?"

"You pull the race card out that fast, huh, Kane?" I mutter.

"Second of all," Kane continues, waving his hand in front of my face in an effort to shush me, "if we lose against the Ravenclaws today, then it's gonna be you who has to tell Ellis we lost because of your lack of a belief system."

For a moment, it seems like Kane is going to continue on his pointless rant, but his words stop short when he sees Walt heading towards us. My gaze shifts over to Winona, who stares at Walt dismissively. Walt grins at us, carefully avoiding eye contact with Winona. "Hey guys," he greets us. Kane and I give him usual pleasantries, but Winona stays silent. "Ready for the game?" he asks.

"For sure," Kane answers, "but we'd be readier if Winona would stop spreading bad luck around us."

Walt chuckles as he absentmindedly starts adjusting his cuffs. "Velma, are you sitting with anyone during the match?" I shake my head in response. "Let's hang out together?" Walt asks.

"Not sitting with Lorelei, are you?" Winona blurts out, speaking directly to Walt for the first time in weeks. She holds his gaze calmly, not showing a sign of emotion. "Don't the two of you want to be spending all the time you can together?"

Walt lets the silence hold for a beat. "No," Walt eventually answers her. "Lorie wanted to sit with Oka and Juni."

For a moment, it looks like Winona is about to retaliate, but her rational, mature side takes over. She merely nods at Walt, who gives her an equally aloof expression. She turns to Kane. "Let's get going," she says as she tightens her ponytail. "We've got a game to win."

"Yeah, we do!" Kane exclaims, trying and succeeding to lighten the tension between the four of us. "We'll catch up with you after the game, Velma!" he calls over his shoulder as he hurries down the stairs.

Winona lingers for an awkward beat, like she's about to say something. But the beat passes, and she turns to follow Kane down the stairs. "Win," Walt gently calls out to her before she can leave. She turns back around to us (to Walt (she barely even looks at me)). "I'll be cheering for you."

She's thrown for second; this is the first civil thing they've said to each other for a while. A gentle grin spreads across her face. "I'll be listening for it," she says before she takes off after Kane.

Once she's gone, I eye Walt suspiciously. He notices me watching him and frowns at me. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he asks.

"Oh, okay," I respond sarcastically. "You're just going to ignore that. I see."

"Ignore what?"

"God…" I mutter, rolling my eyes. "C'mon, Stay, hurry up. We want good seats, don't we?"

v

"Hey," Finn says, blocking me from the doorway. "Team members only."

Before I can sass Finn, one of the other Gryffindor chasers from inside calls out, "Just let Velma in, Finn. She's at enough practices to be on the team." That's true. Between being the younger sister of a Quidditch star, the older sister of a Quidditch star, the best friend of two Quidditch stars, and the (at one point) girlfriend of a Quidditch star, I've sat through a fair amount of team practices throughout my seven years at school. Finn glares at me for a beat but then reluctantly moves out of my way.

The match went well; we won, thankfully. If we hadn't I would have to deal with a bitter Kane for a week. It was an excessively long match that forced us to sit in the early February cold for hours. To keep warm, Walt and I shared a blanket charmed with a heating spell while we sipped hot chocolate. Some highlights of the game included Ellis running straight into the Quidditch post, Winona nearly slipping from her broom while she was too focused on fixing her hair, and Calix's uniform shirt flying up over his head when he had flown through a particularly strong blast of wind.

I step into the players' private room, searching for my friends, but as soon as I do, someone jumps on my back, hugging my shoulders. Probably Kane, as aggressively happy as ever. Or maybe Winona, if she were in an uncharacteristically excited mood. I turn around in the person's arms to find Calix holding me, and shockingly enough, I'm not even a little bit flustered by him like I would usually be. Something about him is different. His reassuring smile isn't as bright as it used to be. His hazel-green eyes don't seem especially spectacular.

"You know, it's _really_ only supposed to be players in here," Calix says, a playful grin on his face.

I shrug at him, holding my voice effortlessly steady. "C'mon, Calix," I reply, matching his grin. "You must remember my flagrant disregard for that rule by now."

"I remember you coming in here to bring me chocolate frogs after our games," he says, a hopeful glint in his eye.

"Oh, no," I say mockingly, "I would just bring chocolate over for the winners, and if I recall correctly, Ellis destroyed you today."

"Yeah, he did!" Kane roars as he and Winona fly in next to me. Their sudden entrance is expected; if they can, they do this when I'm alone with Calix since they think I'm still essentially spineless when it comes to anything Calix related. "Ellis owned you today, Clyne!" Kane laughs good-naturedly as he punches Calix in the arm.

Winona slips in between Calix and me, effectively becoming a barrier between the two of us. Her arm links through mine. "C'mon, Vel," she says a little too brightly. "Let's go down to the Three Broomsticks for a drink."

"Um, sure," I hesitantly agree, allowing Winona to steer me out of the room.

Kane follows closely behind us, and even though it takes me a second to notice him, Calix is walking with us as well. "Alright if I join you three?" Calix asks pleasantly. "I'd kill for a drink right about now."

Winona and Kane share a glance, telegraphing messages through slight eyebrow gestures, but before they can reach a consensus, I answer Calix for them. "Yeah, come with," I respond. "It'll be fun."

"Riiight…" Kane says uncertainly. He narrows his eyes at me, confused, but when I nod at him, he drops most of the suspicion in his face, although some caution still remains.

"Cool," Calix says as he grins. He either doesn't pick up on Winona and Kane's tension or decides to ignore it. He walks beside me and rests his arm over my shoulders lazily. I note how content I feel; isn't it unfair and maybe a little ironic? When I did care about Calix's approval, my brain always managed to fizzle out on me, but when I don't care about him, I can act like the best cool, calm version of me?

The four of us continue walking; Calix and I are the ones doing most of the talking, while Kane and Winona watch us carefully from behind. I take in the day; it's nice out, disregarding the cold of the final weeks of winter. Everything seems good.

But, of course, it didn't last.

As the four of us round a corner, only a block away from the Three Broomsticks, we run face to face with. Holt, Dwight, Charlotte, and Ames. I see all four of them take note of Calix's arm resting on my shoulders. Dwight and Holt snicker at the sight, while Charlotte merely looks at us indifferently; it's Ames, of course, who really grabs my attention. His pale blue eyes laser in on me. He pushes his hair to the side, and then continues to rub his hand on the back of his head. What is that when he messes with his hair like that? Nervous tick?

Dwight, Holt, and Charlotte all start moving past us. Dwight sends Kane a nasty glare as he passes but nothing much else. They move past, but Ames just stands there, his neutral face broken with unsettlingly furious eyes. Had I not known why Ames looks so pissed, I'd be worried he's about to kill someone. When they realize Ames has stopped, the other three Slytherin stop moving as well, seemingly as confused as my friends are.

"Ames?" Charlotte asks him gently after another beat of Ames glaring at me passes. "Let's go. This isn't worth it," she adds, thankfully attempting to be a mediator.

Kane puffs out his chest and takes a step closer to the still silent Ames. "Got something to say, Fremont?" Kane growls.

"Not to you," Ames mutters, almost inaudibly.

"Then what's your problem?" Kane challenges him, pushing Ames on the shoulder. Instinctively, my hand goes to my wand, just in case something is about to happen.

Ames looks from Kane, to Calix, to me. His mouth turns into a frown and etches deep in him. "You've got me cornered, I supposed. No problems here." My face flushes red with shame and embarrassment. I step away from Calix, staring at the ground since I am too ashamed to make eye contact with Ames. "I'll see you all in class then," he adds coolly as he struts out the door.

"What is Fremont's problem?" Calix mutters, annoyed. "Good stuff back there, Kane. I'm sick of that Death Eater."

" _He's not a Death Eater_!" I want to shout. " _I'm Ames's problem! Stop talking crap out him! You don't even know him!"_ But because I was born a pushover middle child, I respond, "Right, that was good, Kane."

Kane smirks and struts into The Three Broomsticks. "He's always been such a smug little weirdo. I bet he's secretly a sociopath or something."

"Do you even know what a sociopath is?" Winona questions playfully as we take a seat in a corner booth.

"Yeah…" Kane mutters, rubbing his neck. "The thing with the emotion and the serial killers, right? Just wait, you guys. I bet three years from now Fremont is gonna be locked up in Azakaban with the rest of his family."

I feel my head get hot with emotion; I'm angry (really, truly angry) at Kane for the first time in a long time. The more I let Ames get under my skin like this, the more dangerous he becomes. Is dangerous the right word? He's able to make Calix seem trivial and is able to make my friends seem like the villains. Yes, he is definitely dangerous.

"Oh, give it a rest, Kane," I hiss, a surprising amount of irritation in my voice. "He wasn't even doing anything."

"Since when do you care?" Kane laughs.

"… That's a good question."

v

"I'm sorry…"

Ames grabs my shoulders nervously and signals for me to quiet down. He glances up and down the hallway, making sure everything is clear. Once Professor Flitwick leaves the choir room, Ames discreetly leads me in, locking the door behind him. I've met him after his choir class a few times before, even though we both think it's risky meeting here. Still, even when we do meet here, we usually talk for a few moments in the corridor, not in the classroom itself.

"Don't be sorry," Ames replies after triple checking that the door is locked.

"But I feel like a hypocrite," I sigh as I fall into one of the many chairs in the room.

Ames sighs and takes a seat next to me. "That's because you are one."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry."

"Maybe for now…" I offer gently, "let's just not discuss our friends, okay? We're not going to get anywhere. We're just going to fight about it."

Ames crosses his arms. "I don't want to just ignore the fact that you think-"

" _Ames_ ," I interrupt emphatically, "just for now."

"Okay…" he hesitantly concedes. I release a deep breath, thankful not to have to argue about them anymore, but before I can say anything else, Ames quickly asks, "But, um, can we talk about Calix Clyne?"

My cheeks burn red with embarrassment. My feet start sweating while I awkwardly try to explain myself. " _Oh_. Ames, that was nothing. Like, less than nothing," I insist, all the while wildly gesturing with my arms. "There is zero romantic tension between Calix and me anymore. Like, there would've been more romantic tension if it had been Leigh."

Ames furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head at me. "That's… Ew."

"Yeah, that was a weird analogy. I regretted it as soon as I said it," I mumble, "but it got my point across, right?"

Ames lets out a half chuckle, showing both that he's taking the Calix situation well and that he still finds me awkwardness endearing and not concerning. "For both our sakes, I really hope that it gets the point across." His face suddenly tenses, and Ames leans in towards me. "But, joking aside… We _are_ exclusive, right? I mean, I know it's kind of weird since we're not public about it, but we don't have to put a label on it if you don't want to."

"No," I quickly answer, taking his hand. "I want to. I definitely want to be exclusive."

"Then…" he stares down and shakes his head, " _why_ were you on Calix Clyne's arm like that?"

"I just- Calix and I are just- He was..." my voice trails off once I realize that this flakey excuse isn't going anywhere. I take a breath and center myself. I have to reteach my arguing strategies with him; passionate outbursts aren't going to get me anywhere with Ames. "I don't have a valid reason or excuse," I finally answer. "It was wrong of me. I shouldn't have done it, and I won't do it again."

He nods solemnly, the tenseness in his jaw loosening. "Okay…"

I tilt my head, watching Ames's expression closely. I grin and wrap myself around his shoulders. "Were you jealous?"

He looks back at me with a humorless expression. "I don't think jealous is the right word for it."

"Oh, come on, Ames," I scoff. "Admit it."

"You know, I'm not sure if it was more jealousy directed at Clyne or irritation at you?" Ames replies as he shakes me off his shoulders. "You know how I am with emotions. It all gets mixed up in here."

"But you admit you were kind of jealous."

"Yes. I can admit that I was, to a certain degree, jealous that you were with him."

"See? That wasn't awful to admit." I glance around the room, finally able to take my focus off of Ames. I've only been in here a handful of times. It's a nice room with all kinds of instruments neatly on walls or in glass cabinets. It's always been a comforting notion to know that both muggles and wizards play the same instruments; we've got at least that in common. I spot a black violin resting on top of a box near all of Ames's stuff. He never brings it into the room of Requirement with him, so this is the first time I've ever actually seen it. "While we're in here…" I begin slowly, "will you play your violin for me?"

"No, not after making talk about how I feel. I'm kind of irritated at you," he jokingly responds. "You play me something."

"I don't play any instruments," I say. I wish I had bothered to learn. My parents tried to get me to learn, but I was never patient enough. Marissa tried to teach me some stuff, but… Wait. She _did_ teach me. "Actually, I know a song on piano," I say as I move to take a seat on the piano bench.

"What song?"

"Well, half of a song. I know half of 'Heart and Soul.'"

"Which part?" Ames asks, taking a seat next to me on the bench.

"Um, the higher part," I answer. "The one that goes, ' _Doo doo dooo, do-do do-do do-do_.'" Ames starts humming the other half of the song under his breath and before I know it, his fingers are dancing over the keys, playing the lower half of the song. I didn't even realize he could play piano; I thought it was just violin.

Ames catches my eye, and nods at me, trying to signal for me to play my part. Oh, shit. I haven't touched a piano in years. Why did I say I knew something? I don't know this anymore. Ames continues his steady harmony, but nudges me with his foot, insisting I join in. My fingers fly to the keys, and I somehow manage to play the familiar song, but it's not long until-

"Shoot," I mutter as my fingers clunk down on the wrong keys. "Sorry, I haven't played it in a while, I guess."

I'm about to get up from the bench when Ames wraps his arm around me and takes my hand into his. "Here," he says as he guides my fingers onto the correct keys. C, C, C, C, B, A, C, D. I lean into his arm, making sure I focus on the notes, but also letting myself notice the warmth radiating off of him and his breath on my neck. His hand slowly lets go of mine, and I find myself playing my melody on my own. "There you go," Ames says, the shadow of a smile on his face. He rejoins me, and we play song together, the bright music filling the room. I look away from the keys for a moment to glance at Ames. There's not quite a smile there, but there's a certain peacefulness in his eyes.

"Ta-da," I say as Ames adds on a fancy tag as the song ends. I lean on him, resting my head on his shoulder as he idly picks out tune that sounds familiar, but I can't quite place. I grin to myself, despite the odd sadness I feel pooling in me. "I used to play 'Heart and Soul' with my sister. Marissa taught herself how to play the piano and wanted someone to play the song with her. Only song she ever got around to teaching me." Ames's song ends as familiar tears prick at my eyes. There was a lot Marissa meant to get around to. "You would've liked her, I think," I add. I glance up to Ames, who stares ahead vacantly and almost stricken. "Ames?"

"What?" he asks, snapping out of that weird daze.

"Play something on the violin."

"Not today."


	19. Need a Reminder?

**Chapter Nineteen** **–** **Need a Reminder?**

Something is wrong when I walk into the Great Hall.

The candles have been dimmed and all the tables have been pushed to the side. Debris are spread around the room, and everything seems to be in a thin layer of dust. Instinctively, I look around for Kane or Winona. Walt, Ellis, Sharon, Ridley. Anybody that I know. Instead I see Potter stumbling towards me. His dark hair is matted to his forehead and his green eyes look wild as if he's been awake for days at a time.

"Professor," I call out to him, trying to get his attention, but he just walks past me to get out the door. My eyebrows furrow as I watch him, concerned. "H-Harry?" I timidly try calling to him a second time, but it's too late. He's already gone.

I continue on into the Great Hall.

Small groups of people are scattered around the room, all huddling together, talking in panicked voices. Some people are hugging. Others are sobbing. I gingerly touch my forehead, my cut stinging intensely. Blood from the cut drips down my temple, and I quickly wipe it away.

"Excuse me," I say to a young man casting a healing spell on a boy's arm. I gesture to my wound. "Could you...?" He nods at me and heals the gash in my forehead with ease. "Thank you," I say earnestly as I scan the faces of all the other busy Healers. "Do you happen to know where Marissa Caplan would be?" I ask him.

The man frowns at me. "Is she one of the injured?"

"No, she's a Healer. A student. She stayed to help and fight."

He shakes his head at me. "Sorry, I don't know any Healers by that name."

The man goes back to his patient, and I look around the room for my sister. But as time goes on, I can't find her at all. I bet she ran. God, I bet she didn't even stay to fight or heal or anything. I bet she broke that promise she made me. She'll have a _great_ excuse for bailing on the battle when I find her, but whatever she manages to come up with, I couldn't care less; it won't change the fact that she's a coward.

Suddenly something cold rushes over me, as if I've just opened the door leading into a blizzard and tiny needles of ice are pricking into my skin. I look around, trying to see if someone is messing with me, but no one's there. It's just me. But then, something catches my eye. Off to the side of the room is a body covered by a thin white sheet.

My feet seem to move on their own, as if I'm being called over. I approach the body slowly. She wouldn't do that to us. Never. Marissa would never leave us like that. God would never take her away from us. She's too strong, too loving to leave us. She wouldn't.

A hand pokes out from under the sheet. Chipped silver nail polish on the fingers.

No…

I reach down and drag the sheet off of the corpse.

For a moment, all the air in the room vanishes and everything is silent.

.

.

.

There's a moment. A really quick moment when you turn off old TVs, right in between the static and black. That white line that flashes on the screen for a moment and then turns into a dot before disappearing. That moment is where it feels like my mind is stuck.

Static.

Me.

Darkness.

.

.

.

I thought that people were supposed to look peaceful when they died.

Marissa stares at the ceiling, her blue-grey eyes permanently filled with fear. Her face is bloodied and covered in dirt. Her mouth is open slightly, as if she were in the middle of saying something. What was the last thing I said to her? Fuck. Did I tell her goodbye? Did I tell her I loved her? What did I say?

She's still wearing the earrings I got her for her fourteenth birthday.

A muffled, unintelligible noise escapes me as I sink to the floor. I put my hand over hers, surprised at how cold she is. I feel myself shaking. I feel tears dripping down my face. I feel an empty, gaping hole forming in my chest. I stare into her eyes, waiting to see that familiar spark of happiness in them. But nothing happens. Nothing's left.

I don't understand.

I don't.

It isn't fair. Marissa. Big sister. It isn't fair. I lost Mom already. I had to do this before. This wasn't supposed to happen. This isn't fair. This isn't fair.

Aren't I a little old to think that the world gives a shit about what is and isn't fair?

My sobs get heavier and harder, and as my tears roll off my face and hit Marissa's chest, I think about how pathetic it is that I can't tear my eyes away from hers. What am I expecting? Do I want her to look at me one last time? Do I want her to wipe my tears away and tell me that dying didn't hurt? What is Dad going to say when he hears about this? What is Leigh going to-

"Leigh…" I whisper in horror. I wipe my tears away as I find the strength to stand. Hurriedly, I scan the Great Hall for my brother.

 _"_ _He can't know. He can't know. He can't know,"_ my heart panickily repeats.

 _"_ _He's going to have to know sooner or later,"_ my head reminds me.

Leigh stands toward the center of the room, looking closely at all the Healers. Looking for Marissa. I take a mental image of him as he is – wide eyes, dusty face, unruly curls – knowing that I might not ever see him like this again.

"Hey," I say once I reach him. I try to keep my voice steady, but it feels like it's going to fall apart. Everything feels like it's going to fall apart. "Leigh, let-let's go back to the Room of Requirement."

He tilts his head at me. "Are you crying?" he asks solemnly.

"D-don't worry about me," I stammer, my voice shaking. "C'mon, let's just go."

"No," Leigh says forcefully, stubborn as ever. "We got permission to be out here to see Marissa." He glances over at the Healers wandering around again. "You talk to her yet?"

"I haven't," I lie, my hands balling into fists. "Leigh, just do what I say, okay? We're going to the Room of Requirement."

"You don't get to tell me what to do," Leigh snarls, standing his ground.

"Yes, I do," I seethe. I grab him by his shoulders and try and force him out of the room. But he brushes me off of him and glares at me.

"No, you don't," Leigh says. He tries to shove past me.

"Yes, I do," I repeat, jabbing him the shoulder.

"No, you don't!" Leigh shouts, pushing at me with all his might.

"Yes, I do!" My hand instinctually moves before I can stop it. The palm of my hand lands on Leigh's cheek hard and fast. My little brother stumbles back, his curls falling in his eyes. His shaky hand reaches up and brushes against his cheek, where a red welt has already begun to form. He looks up at me, fear and confusion in his eyes. I watch him swallow his tears, determined not to cry. I reach out to him, but before I can apologize, he's taken off, running past me. "Leigh, I'm sorry! Don't go-"

His footsteps stop abruptly.

Leigh stands over Marissa's body, his back to me. Unmoving. Silent. I think back to when Mom died. I never thought anyone could cry as hard as Leigh did. I remember being so scared for him; at night I could hear the wails coming from his room, and I was afraid he would cry himself to death, and then we'd have to have another funeral for him like we had for Mom.

But this time he doesn't give the shaking sobs he gave for Mom. When he turns around, his eyes are empty. Almost as empty as Marissa's. His bottom lip trembles, and his face has lost any trace of color. He lets out a shuddering breath, and for a moment I'm afraid that he's going to throw up.

My voice can barely reach above a whisper. "I didn't want you to see…" I mutter. I shake my head, ashamed that I don't have anything better to say. What can I say? What can I do?

Slowly, Leigh's face contorts into something new. Soon it's only hatred – pure, fury filled hatred – in his wide grey eyes. "It's your fault…" he mumbles, sucking air through his teeth. I furrow my eyebrows. I try to reach out to him, but he pushes me away. " _It's all your fault_ ," he repeats, a quiet rage in his voice.

Leigh's words sink in, and the full meaning finally dawns on me. She went out to fight because of me. I'm the one who told her to. No… No, that couldn't have been the last thing I said to her. There has to have been something else. There has to have been at least a 'goodbye' or an 'I love you'. This couldn't have been it.

 _I promise._

 _Deal._

I gasp and suddenly find my eyes opening to darkness. My hands grasp around desperately to find my bedsheets. Dream. Just a dream.

I sit up in my bed cautiously, as if I'll wake up from another nightmare at any moment. The window near my bed lets light stream onto my bed, illuminating my shaking hands. I hold my blanket to my sweaty face, trying to slow my breathing.

But before I can stop it, I let out a choked sob. When will that night ever let me go? I try to hold it back, but I sob again, louder this time. My body shakes and my tears are soaked up by my blanket.

"Velma…" Sharon murmurs, still half-asleep. My crying stops almost instantly. I can just make out Sharon's outline as she watches me from her bed. "Why are you awake?" she asks.

"No reason," I blurt out, more defensively than I intend to.

Sharon glares at me, still barely awake. "Well, then quiet down," she hisses as she lies back down. "Let the rest of us get some sleep."

"Yeah," I respond, just barely holding my voice steady.

v

All the noise in the Great Hall is giving me a headache.

Kane absent mindedly tapping his fork on his glass. Winona biting into toast. Some third years down the table all laughing. Kane tapping his fork on glass. Group of Ravenclaws behind me in a debate. Sharon telling a joke. Kane tapping his fork. Ellis reading aloud under his breath. Kane tapping.

 _all your fault_

tap, tap, tap, tap, tap

"Will you _stop_ that, Kane?!" I shout, slamming my hands down on the table. My friends' lively conversation shuts off, and they all stare at me with varying levels of confusion.

Kane puts his hands up in the air. "Stop… what?" he asks me slowly.

"Stop hitting your glass with your fork…" I answer irritably. "God, it's so annoying."

"Yeah, okay…" Kane says, tossing his fork down on his plate. "You don't need to shout at me."

"Whatever, just as long as you stop," I hiss.

Kane stares at me for a second, unsure what to make of me, but the moment passes and my friends quickly restart their conversation. My headache throbs in my skull, making everything else around me sound far away and muffled. Part of me wants to complain, but instead I just grit my teeth and bare it. I stare down at my food and try not to look up. Try not to think about exactly where her body was in the Great Hall when I found her. Try not to think about how cold her body was or how scared she looked. Try not to remember that bloody gash on the side of her head. I try. I try. I t

"Velma?" Ellis asks, his voice very suddenly forcing itself in on my thoughts. I look up and realize that all my friends are looking at me expectantly. Ellis tilts his head at me, studying me carefully. "Did you hear me?"

"Yes," I answer, shaking my head. "No. I don't know."

Sharon rolls her eyes impatiently. "We were asking if you were coming to the Forbidden Forest with us or not."

I scowl at Sharon. "It's _forbidden_ isn't it?"

" _No_ ," she retorts emphatically. "Jeez, I got permission from Hagrid. I need some bowtruckles. We won't even have to go past the edges of the forest."

"You coming or not, Vellie?" Kane asks, nudging me with his knee.

"No, it's a dumb idea," I respond. "You guys go get yourselves killed."

"Um… Are you okay?" Sharon questions me.

"Yeah."

She narrows her dark eyes at me. "Then why are you so touchy today?"

 _let the rest of us get some sleep_

"Maybe it's because one of my roommates is an egotistical brat that only ever seems to be whining."

"Whoa, what is your deal today?" Kane asks as he stands above me. "Why are you being such a crazy bitch?"

don't. don't. don't.

"Don't call me crazy…"

"Then stop acting crazy!" Kane bellows.

My vision shifts in and out of focus and before I realize what I'm doing, my wand is in my hand. I bring my arm back and then fling it towards Kane. A flash of green collides into him and sends him flying back, landing hard on the floor between the two tables. My friends watch in horror as Kane rises up on his forearms and promptly vomits out a slug. Slime dribbles down his chin as the slug slithers away. Walt, who was sitting a bit away from my group with Lorelei, leaps up from the table and kneels down to Kane.

"Oh, Jesus…" Kane groans, nearly green. "Oh, shiii-" Another slug slides out of Kane's mouth, nearly landing in Walt's lap.

"Velma!" Winona exclaims, jumping to my side and grabbing my wrist.

"He started it…" I mutter.

Kane, with Walt's help, shakily gets up onto his feet. One of his hands he keeps in front of his mouth; the other hand points an accusatory finger at me. "That's-" Another slug slides out of his mouth. "Not true!"

I glare at Winona, waiting for her to choose either my side or Kane's side. Her dark eyes dart back and forth between us, but eventually it's me that she frowns at. "You were the one who started shouting at him…" she says coolly. For a second, it looks like she's about to rip into me, but instead she stares at me sadly. "Are you sure everything is okay?"

"I'm sure," I say, dismissively waving my hand at Winona before stomping out of the Great Hall.

I brush past Walt and Kane, the later attempting to give me a nasty look, but being too sick to do so. "Eat this," Walt says, offering Kane a treacle tart. Kane makes a weird gurgling noise and takes the tart from Walt. Walt then stands and hesitantly puts his hand on my arm. "Um… I'm going to have to deduct points for cursing…"

I brush Walt off of me. "Fine," I mutter, staring down at me feet. Everyone's gaze is on me. I can feel it. I stare down at my feet, evading everyone's eyes, and then storm off to the Room of Requirement.

v

Sitting against one of the arches in the Room almost feels like it used to, back when I say in here alone, avoiding my friends and waiting to catch Ames do something nefarious. That was a simpler time. I sit curled up in a ball, my forehead resting against my knees, and try to think of anything but

 _her face bloodied and covered in dirt_

My eyes squeeze shut, and I listen to the pounding of blood in my ears. Why am I so helpless and pathetic all the time? I hate this. I hate myself. I hate all of this. I try not to think about my nightmare. I try to

 _hatred in his wide grey eyes_

…

I try. I really, really try not to think of anything at all.

And time passes.

I sit there, curled up against the wall, until the door creeps open. I glance up quickly to see Ames making his way towards me, but then I put my face down to my knees. "Hey…" he begins awkwardly. "How long have you been in here?"

"I don't know," I respond honestly. Anywhere from a minute to an hour could have passed; I completely lost track of time.

He stands next to me, noticeably tense. "Saw you and Kane Long back there," he tries.

My jaw tightens. "Go away."

"Velma-" he persists.

"I don't want you to see me cry, Go away," I order.

I don't hear him say anything then, but I also don't hear any footsteps leaving the room. I pick my head up to glare at him, but he just stares down at me calmly. "No," he responds casually.

I rise up from my pathetic position on the floor to square off against Ames. "I'm sure you're used to Renata doing that weird thing girls do when they tell guys that they want them to leave them alone to test to see if they'll keep asking, but trust me. I just want you to leave," I hiss. His calm demeanor is shaken, and normally I'd be proud of myself for finding a rare chink in his armor, but this time I just feel guilty. I drop my face into my hands. "It's nothing personal, Ames. I just have to wait this weird mood out."

"A weird mood?" he questions, putting his hands on my shoulders. "Velma, you're smart. Are you sure that this is nothing else?"

 _unmoving and silent and wide-open eyes_

"It's nothing," I insist, feeling my feet sweat in my shoes. "I just have to wait it out."

He regards me for a moment, but then slowly takes his hands off of me. "And you don't want me in here because you don't want me to see you cry, right?" he clarifies.

I nod silently, fearful that if I open my mouth to say anything else only tears would spill out of me. I slump back onto the wall and slide back down to the floor. I stare up at Ames, waiting for him to leave, but he doesn't. He just strolls to the other side of the arch, disappearing from my view.

"What are you doing?" I ask him.

"Now if you cry I still won't see it," he answers from the other side of the wall.

"Ames…"

"I'm not leaving," he insists. "I've seen bits and pieces of you when you're like this. This isn't just a mood. Something's wrong."

 _something is wrong something is wrong something is wrong_

"That's not true," I whisper, more to myself than to Ames.

"Talk to me."

"I can't."

I hear him hit the back of his head against the wall dividing us. "Why not?" he presses.

"Because I don't talk to anyone about this," I mutter, my voice shaking and my mind reeling. Words in my mind feel like they're flying all around me. Like they're all just fragments slipping through my fingers. "I can't think when I'm like this. I feel like my mind is glitching. It's like I'm thinking in circles."

He keeps his immutable aura, but I can feel desperation leaking into his words. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"No."

 _filled with fear_

"Can't you at least try to let me help you?"

" _No._ "

 _the earrings I got her_

"You don't have to be strong all the time, Velma," he half-shouts, half-whispers. "Let your guard down for just a second and-"

"Just _stop_ it, Ames!" I shout, slapping my palm against the wall that separates us. A hot tear slides down into my face and lands in a _plop_ on my knee. Now he's finally quiet, and I wonder if he can hear my tears or not. I wipe my eyes and sing lower to the floor. "It's been three years. I should have let this go by now."

I hear him shifting around. "Three years…" he mutters. "Three years ago was the Battle of-"

"I know what it was," I interrupt. God, everyone, _everyone_ knows what that night was. I hold my face in my hands, but somehow to manage to speak with any authoritativeness I have within me left. "I'm _done_ talking about this," I hiss.

I sit there, waiting for him to get up and leave. But he doesn't. He doesn't move, and he speaks so softly, I can barely hear him speak. "Okay," he says, gentle and certain at the same time. "I'll wait here with you," he continues. "You don't have to say anything."

v

I poke my head into the Common Room, unsure if anyone's in here. For the most part, it looks fine. Only a handful of second years are here playing with some cat. Good. I walk in, only semi-aware of the second years' stares on me. I really did overreact in the Great Hall today. Jesus, I need to learn how to keep my emotions under control. If I don't I'm going to end up like Dad.

…

I shouldn't have thought that. That was bad; I shouldn't have thought that. I'm a terrible daughter. Why would I think something like that?

Never mind that for now. I'll just go to my room and sleep this entire day away. But as I reach the bottom of the stairs, someone lumbers into the room and kicks the door shut behind him.

"Yo, Vellie," Kane's voice calls out to me.

I turn back to him and make my way over to him hesitantly. "Hey… Kane," I say slowly.

I wait for Kane to explode at me and hit me with a hex of his own or (more likely) just a real physical punch in the nose. It's not like I don't deserve any of that. I know Kane was fixed up pretty quickly, but still it was an incredibly shitty thing for me to do. Kane should just get all the anger and revenge out of his system and be done with it.

"Can you go to Honeydukes with me after Quidditch tomorrow?" he asks me, like it's any other day.

My face scrunches up in confusion. "Er, what?"

"I need to get some candies and send them to Peony. She keeps asking me to send stuff," he explains. I stare at him, eyebrows furrowed and mouth ajar. Kane tilts his head at me. "What's up? Can you go or not? It's not a big deal if you can't. I'll just go with Win. She could use some time away from the dorms. She starts sulking whenever Walt and Lorelei enter the room."

"Long, what's your game?" I question, finally finding my voice.

He shrugs and running a hand through his spiky black hair. "I'm pretty good at Clue? Also that card game, War."

"War is a game based entirely on chance."

"Still good at it. Never lose. Oh, I'm good at Yahtzee too."

"Wait, we're off topic," I interject, trying to get a hold on the situation. "I meant like… what's with… this attitude. What's your strategy? What are you planning?"

Kane looks at me, concerned. "I'm not planning anything."

"Okay, then if you're not," I begin skeptically, "why aren't you mad at me?"

He awkwardly looks down at his feet then. He grimaces but still speaks patiently. "Well, I was trying to just act like it never happened because I didn't really feel like having this conversation."

"But you should be mad at me!" I exclaim, shocked. "I feel bad that you're not mad at me! Kane, a slug was inside of you."

"It didn't taste _that_ bad," he says as he licks his lips, almost like he's recalling the exact flavor of the slug. "Look, I dunno what was up with you at breakfast today, and I guess I just figure that you're having a bad day. I get it. We're all pissy sometimes," he says. A meaningful look crosses over his face, "I just wish that you'd tell me _why_ you were so pissy."

"I'd rather not."

Kane huffs and scowls. For a moment I'm thankful to see the expected dramatic, irritable Kane, but that moment passes quickly when I'm the victim of his death glare. "Okay, you not telling me what's wrong makes me madder than you hexing me.

"God, you don't need to be so worried about me all the time. I'm fine now!"

"Hey, I'm serious," he continues, crossing his arms. "You shouldn't be repressing shit if it's gonna lead to you acting out."

"You know what, Kane?" I hiss, pushing past him to get to the stairs. "Maybe you should stop pretending that you're my therapist all the time. Just because your mom knows shit doesn't mean that you do."

"Well, then maybe you should find a real goddamn therapist then," Kane calls out to me. "It's obvious that you need one!"

My feet stop in their tracks. Even without looking at Kane, I can feel the regret emulating off of him. Those second-years playing with that cat probably heard him too. Shit. I turn to him slowly and look down on him from my position on the stairs. He swallows hard. "Sorry…" he mutters.

"Yeah, don't worry," I say solemnly. "We all get pissy. Um, I'm sorry for the slug curse thing."

Kane grins sadly at me. "It's okay," he says. His smile broadens awkwardly. "So… Honeydukes tomorrow, or what?"

I return his smile. "Sure," I decide. "Why not?"


	20. Kiss, Marry, Kill

**Chapter Twenty** – **Kiss, Marry, Kill**

Ames is sitting on a couch when I walk into the room. A really fancy couch too, dark blue and velvet with ornate looking pillows. As he reads his book, he sits perfectly upright on the couch, instead of laying down or kicking his feet up. Of course, he'd sit like that. I clear my throat, and he glances up at me, grinning softly.

"What do you think?" he asks warmly, gesturing at the couch. "Come sit."

I smile at him as I crash on the couch next to him. I immediately sink into it, surprised at how cushy it is. Ames rests his arm around my shoulders, pulling me next to him. "Where… did this come from?" I ask.

"I asked the room for it. I realized sitting on the ground all the time was hurting my back," he answers factually, "and I thought that the sofa would help fix that."

"Oh."

With his free hand, he fluffs his hair awkwardly. "I… Um, also thought that… _you_ might enjoy it as well."

"Well… I do happen to enjoy it," I say as I reach down into my bag to grab my own books. I sit back up and find his face inches away from mine when I turn back to him. "I need to study for my Charms test," I say softly since he's already so close.

The corner of his mouth turns up. "I think I can help you with that." He says as he leans in a little closer until I can feel his breath in my ear. "I know a thing or two about charms…"

"I… Shut up," I laugh. I push Ames away from me, blushing furiously. I would never have pegged Ames for such a flirt a few months ago. Despite the detached aura he radiates, he really can be playful when he wants to be.

He wraps an arm around my waist, and I feel myself blush furiously. "Velma…" he whispers into my ear.

"Studying…" I whisper back.

"Study later," he mutters, somehow simultaneously suave and blasé. I feel his lips brush against my neck and my heartbeat begin to race in response.

I close my eyes and lean into him. "You're the _worst_ ," I groan as he picks up the pace of his kisses. He murmurs something in response, but his mouth is a bit preoccupied to really be forming words. I take him by the cheek and guide him away from my neck to catch a quick kiss on the lips. "I'm going to go to the common room," I say once I've pulled away from him.

"Why?" he asks me, sounding slightly hurt.

I stand up, holding my books to my chest. "I can't focus on reading when your id is setting off your libido like this, Ames," I scoff. I look back at him and see that he's begun blushing an adorable shade of pink at the mention of sex, even if it is through a Freudian concept. "That was just a joke," I confirm. "I'll see you later."

"Wait," Ames says, grabbing my hand and trying to tug me back into the couch. "Stay with me."

I bite my lip, trying not to die from the cuteness that Ames admitted when he said 'stay with me.' Like, Jesus. His emotion is still at a steady 30 percent, and he's still able to be this cute? What's going to happen if he ever decides to go all out one day? "I've really got to go, Ames," I sigh. "You're gonna have to fight a little harder to get me to stay."

"Are you being serious?" Ames challenges, letting go of my hand. "I'd take you up for a fight."

I chuckle. "Okay, that's a tempting offer, but only because it'd just be a little too easy to beat you in a fight."

He stands and squares off across from me. "You think you can beat me?"

"I know I can. I do it every day in class."

"You don't think I'd be able to distract you?"

"Hey, if one of us is getting distracted it really isn't me today."

He cranes his neck slightly down, his eyes meeting mine. "Not even if you're too focused on these?" he whispers while trying to suck me in with his pale blue eyes. He smirks at me, his stare intensifying. Ugh, he knows. _He knows_. This blonde haired, blue eyed, Aryan bastard _knows_ how good his eyes are. Has he ever looked at me like this knowing-

Before I can do anything, Ames has me by the waist, and together we crash back into the couch. Damn, he actually distracted me. I squeal and try to squirm out of his arms, but he pulls me into him, planting ticklish kisses along my neck and jaw.

"You are the _devil_ ," I laugh, still trying to push away from him.

"Mmhmm…" he hums into my neck, probably only half listening to me.

I manage to pull my neck away from him and catch a kiss on the lips just as I had before. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, and I feel his arms relax and loosen around my waist. And when Ames is just the right amount of absorbed in the kiss-

"Ow!" he exclaims, his hand jumping to the part of his arm where I pinched him. I take my opportunity and break free from his arms, take my stuff, and run to the exit of the Room.

"Door, door, door…" I say as I tap on the wall. "C'mon, where is the door ah-!"

Ames hugs me from behind and tries to spin me around, but just as the door out of the Room forms, I slip out of his arms again and jog out the door. Ames follows close behind and somehow manages to corner me up against a wall. He softly grins down at me. I roll my eyes at him but pull him in by his shirt for a kiss.

"Got distracted, didn't you?" he asks, his lips hovering over mine.

"You know I let you win," I answer, tugging him in by his shirt again for another kiss.

"What the hell is this?"

Ames and I both see her at the same time. Renata stands down the hallway having just turned the corner, only a few yards away from Ames and me. Her mouth is slightly open, her eyes are wide, and she stands with her arms crossed. Ames and I jump apart. I stand uncomfortably still with my arms glued to my sides, while Ames awkwardly wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Ren…" Ames sputters. Ren? Since when did he ever refer to Renata as Ren? "I- I- It's not what you think."

"Gotcha!" I exclaim, trying as hard as I can to not sound awkward. Keep calm. Keep calm. Don't panic. "You should've seen the look on your face, Renata. You actually bought it."

Renata drops her arms, lowering her defensive position. She lets out a heavy sigh and says, "Oh, so it's a prank. Wow, I was freaked out for a moment."

"Prank, yes," Ames says, his voice tense. "Did you think it was funny, Renata?"

"No. How fucking stupid do you two think I am?" Renata says, nearly growling. Ames and I turn to each other. I feel my face turning a shade of red, and Ames is the most shocked and most afraid I've ever seen him. This isn't good. Shit. This really isn't good. Renata scowls at us and turns to Ames. "I thought you'd know me better, Ames," she says accusingly. She lets out a huffy breath. "I can't say I'm surprised. You always did lurk around her." I look up at Ames questioningly at that comment, but he's too focused on Renata. She presses her lips together. "I just didn't realize you actually thought of her like… that."

Ames takes a step away from me, towards Renata. He takes her hand, and despite the panic and worry I feel, a pang of jealousy hits me anyway. Ames tries to speak in his calm, rational voice, but it isn't hard to hear the apprehension in it. "Ren, I… I'm sorry. You know that you mean so much-"

"Oh, just save your breath," she snaps at him, pulling her hand out of his grasp. She jabs him in the chest with her finger, each word she says with more and more accusation. "You know, everyone's started to wonder where you've been hiding off to. You've been doing an awful lot of sneaking around, Ames, even for you," she spits. "People are getting suspicious of you again, and I've been sticking my neck out by defending you to everyone, but in reality, you're just doing _this_." Renata crosses her arms again and looks at Ames expectantly. His mouth hangs open, and I can see him searching for the words to say. She smiles ruefully. "And you sincerely have nothing to say to me right now."

Ames lamely shrugs. "I don't know what to say."

"Oh, when do you ever have anything to say, Ames?" she hisses at him. Renata turns to me then, really acknowledging me for the first time. "You get that a lot from him, Velma? Radio silence? Long pauses as he dramatically stares off into the distance? Always finding a way to dodge a question? Is that what he's like with you? Because that's how he was with me." Thankfully, she doesn't wait for me to respond. Renata scoffs and puts her face in one of her hands. "Has… whatever this is, been going on for long?"

I look at Ames expectantly, but he's completely stunned. I sigh and answer, "We've been together since January."

"But he's been hanging around you for how long?" Renata asks, practically interrogating me.

I could lie to her, but then again, at this point, would that do any good? I shake my head. "November? I think. Maybe October."

"Renata, are you going to go tell everyone?" Ames asks, suddenly snapping out of whatever daze he had drifted off to. Renata quietly stares at him. She doesn't respond, and he continues, practically begging. "Don't. Please. You know what will happen." Renata still doesn't say anything. She just stares at Ames like I'm not even there. Ames glances between myself and Renata for a bit. He takes my hand, squeezes it softly, and then lets it go. He walks over to Renata. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

The scowl deepens on Renata's face, and her dark brown eyes remind me of a lioness preparing to pounce on you to tear apart your tendons. But eventually, she nods. "Fine," she answers stiffly. Without waiting for Ames, she storms out of the Room of Requirement and slams the door behind her. Ames sends me a quick reassurance telegraphed through his eyes and then quickly runs out the door to follow her.

And I am left alone.

I stand there, dumbly, too shocked to really do anything. Part of me wants to throw myself down on the new couch in despair, but I'm still too dumbfounded. I could barely follow some of the things Renata was saying. Some of it was obvious; her surprise and anger were evident, but there was something off about some of the other things she was saying. Something going over my head.

I glance over to the closed door.

Head says no: No one likes an eavesdropper. He'll tell you what she said once he gets back in here.

Heart says yes: When does Ames ever tell you anything?

I tiptoe over to the door and press my ear against the cold wall. The voices are faint but, even though it's barely audible, I can make out a few of the words.

Renata's heated voice bleeds through the wall. "I don't give a shit about Velma Caplan," she snarls, "but what you're doing..." I grimace as I lose the rest of her words. I readjust my ear, straining to catch their voices.

Ames's unusually stressed voice answers her. "I'm going to tell her. I've tried to. I- I just haven't found the right moment."

Her? Am I her? Who else could her be? His mom? Is there another girl entirely? No, I'm definitely her. But if I am, what isn't he telling me? Why doesn't he ever tell me anything? I'm so sick of it.

Renata's voice is much lower now, somehow tense and gentle at the same time. "I thought we were both going to move on from this," she whispers.

"We have," Ames insists. "I have."

I keep my ear pressed to the door, trying my hardest to hear, but now I can't make out their words from their faint mumbles on the other side of the wall. Nervous that they'll come back in any second, I slink back over to the couch and do my best to sit there and look innocent.

In the silent moment alone, I'm finally free to process everything that just happened. I'm able to process my anger for Renata and (though I hate to admit it) my fear for her as well. She's going to crucify me. In the Great Hall, publicly, where everyone can see. I hate her. I hate her so much. The things she's said to me, the things she's said to all of my friends. Who could have it in them to be so despicable like that? And now, that ruthless, evil bitch has my fate at Hogwarts held in her hands.

The door to the room opens quickly, and I assume that Renata kicked it open. Her face is twisted and distraught, while Ames's is more taut and restless. Renata's eye contact is intimidating, and I curse myself as I look away from her brown eyes. I feel her intense gaze on me, and I stare at the floor, waiting for her to unhinge her jaws and tear out my throat.

"Ames, go back outside," she commands after an agonizingly long silence.

Ames's eyes widen very slightly. He looks between Renata and me, unsure whether to yield to Renata's forcefulness or my pathetic-ness. "I think it'd be better if I stayed in here," he says meekly.

"Just give me a second, Ames," she coos condescendingly. "Girl talk."

"Maybe we should-" he tries to begin, but one glare from Renata has him silent again. She purses her full lips at him, which sends him heading for the door.

Before he exits, he turns back to us. I stare at him, wishing I knew Morse code so that I'd be able to blink the SOS signal to him. I can feel pools of sweat gathering in my shoes. "Ames…"

"I'll be right outside," he assures me. Then he opens the door and steps out. Gone.

Bastard. Can't believe he bailed on me like this.

Now alone, the mood between Renata and me is uncomfortable, to say the least. In the seven years that I've known Renata, I don't think I've ever actually been in a room alone with her. I don't think I've even had a one on one conversation with her like this. She lets out a heavy sigh, and though some of the hostility leaves her face, the spark in her eyes still stays alive. She stares at me, daring me to speak first.

My pride gets the better of me, and even though I know I should be at her feet begging for mercy, I sneer, "What? Are you here to gloat?"

"No," she responds, gently. "I'm here to tell you that I'm going to keep your secret."

My mouth unwillingly dips open. "Oh," I say, in a voice an octave above my own.

She scowls at me. "You're welcome."

"Sorry. I meant, thank you," I quickly correct myself. "I'm just surprised. I was positive that you'd tell everyone. It'd ruin me."

A smile washes over her face, laughing at me, but she quickly reverts back to her steely demeanor. "That's true, and while I'd love to watch that happen, I also know that it would take Ames down with you, and I'm not about to hurt him like that," Renata says. Her eyes darken. "Understand, Velma, I'm not doing this for you. Not even a little. I'm doing this for Ames's sake, so don't start thinking anything has changed between us, got it? I still think you and all your friends are shit."

I know that Renata just spared my ass, but in spite of that, that familiar hatred washes over me. Who does she think is? Before I can stop myself, I'm on my feet, staring up at her. "What is your deal with me?" I demand, this time not drawing back from her eyes. "Why are you so hell-bent against me?"

I fully expect her to slap me. To curse me. To storm out of the room and start telling everyone what she's seen here today, but instead, she just watches me calmly. "You know our brothers are in the same year, right?" she asks, an odd edge to her voice.

Though I'm confused by her sudden change in topic, I nod. "Sure," I answer. Leigh's mentioned him in passing before, but I don't think they've ever been close. "Carlos, right?"

"Yeah," she hisses, contempt sudden flooding back into her voice. "You and your asshole friends booed him when he got sorted, do you remember that?" My eyes rapidly blink. We used to do it when we were kids. Growing up I thought it was just a rivalry, a game. How stupid I've been to not see what it really was and how cruel we were. Renata laughs bitterly. "No, of course, you don't remember that. And you all booed me too, but I suppose you don't remember that either. It's been seven years of shit getting piled on us, Caplan. Why do you _think_ I hate you?"

Her memories aren't an excuse, not even close. But they are reasons. It's the oddest mix of emotions: empathy and hatred. I shake my head at her. "I don't know what to say."

She drops the tension from her face and nods at me. "Yeah, I didn't expect you to." She doesn't say it with anger or forgiveness. She just says it as a statement. The textbook declarative sentence.

The two of us stare at each other for an awkward beat, but then Renata spins around on her heel and mutters something about bringing Ames back in here. I watch her leave, practically dumbfounded, but right before she reaches the door, she turns back around to face me. "Velma…" she says hesitantly, as if she's carefully selecting each word she uses. "In the past… there have been… things that I've said to you that… that I regret."

I chew the inside of my cheek. Unsure of what to say. Unsure if I should say anything at all. "Okay," I respond curtly.

She nods at me, not amicably, but almost respectfully. "And just remember," she adds as she swings the door open, "hurt Ames and I'll make sure that you don't even live to regret it."

"I always thought death threats seemed below you, Renata."

A cold smile spreads across her face. "I always thought you were smarter than that."

She struts out the door then, the heels of her boots clicking against the floor as she walks. The moment she's gone, Ames rushes back into the room. His hair is an absolute mess; he must've been messing with his hair out of stress while he was waiting. He stares at me, surprised, almost as if he was shocked to see me still in one piece after Renata was through with me. His pale blue eyes are filled with concern, and I manage to offer him a lackadaisical smile.

"She's not going to tell anyone," he says awkwardly.

"I know," I respond, nodding. "I believe her."

"It's all going to be fine," Ames continues. He slowly sits down back on the couch next to me, his elbow propped up on the armrest. "Everything will manage to work itself out."

"Think we should find a new meet-up spot soon?" I ask, looking around the room. The last thing we'd need is someone else trying to use the Room of Requirement.

"We just got the couch in here. Let's wait awhile before moving," Ames concedes. He sits back up and rests his arm on the couch behind me. A shy smile brushes over his face. "Um, any chance continuing where we left off is still an option?"

I snort. "You wish."

"I do," he answers, half laughing. I try to laugh too but can't quite manage to make it real. He watches me carefully and wraps his arm around me, holding me close to him. "She's a good person, Velma."

"Not to me," I huff. But then I feel guilty. After what she said, things with Renata feel more complex than it used to. "But I think that might be a little bit of my fault. Forgiveness… hasn't always been my strong suit, but… Maybe I should try to-"

"What did she tell you?" Ames asks. He sits up and while his face stays calm, I feel his arm around me tenses up.

"Huh?"

He stares down at me sternly. "Renata. What did she tell you?"

"About what?" I ask worriedly.

"I-" he begins but cuts himself short once he scans over my face. "Never mind," he concedes, sitting back into the couch. He squeezes eyes shut. "I wish this weren't so complicated."

"I know," I say as I lean my head against his shoulder. The moment feels nice, but then I let out an empty laugh. "No, I don't. I don't know anything anymore. Do you think any of this is even worth it?"

"Yes."

"Maybe we should stop," I offer, gesturing around us wildly. "Maybe I'll just stop showing up in here. Maybe I'll start dating Ridley. What would you do then? Not like you can approach me outside of here."

He laughs, still keeping his eyes shut. "I think that still being partners in Defense Against the Dark Arts would make it easier for me to corner you."

"That's true," I respond.

He holds me closer to him, and I wrap my other arm around him. "Would you actually be able to just walk away from me like that?" he gently questions.

"Not anymore," I answer almost immediately. "Would you be able to bail on me?"

"Velma…" he whispers, shaking his head. His eyes slowly open. "Don't you think if I were able to, I would've done it by now?"

v

Comma curls up on my stomach as I lie sprawled out on Kane's bed. I lift my head a little to glare at the cat, but he's already fallen asleep. Kane lays across the foot of his bed, his head and limbs dangling off the mattress. I kick him with my foot and point to his cat, but Kane just sneers at me.

"Take it as a compliment," he says, throwing his head back again. "I always thought Comma hated you."

"He does," I state, trying to nudge the cat off of me without waking him. "I'm pretty sure he's laying on me to bother me."

"He's not _laying_ on you; Comma is _lying_ on you," Kane smugly corrects me.

Before I can respond to his remark, Winona lifts Comma off of my stomach and cradles him in her arms. "Will you guys focus?" she snaps. "You asked me to help you study, so let's study."

"Wait, wait!" Kane calls, smacking Winona on the leg. "Just one more. Velma. Hannes, Solomon, Finn. Go."

"Easy," I laugh. "Marry Solomon. Kiss Finn. Kill Hannes."

"You'd do that to Hannes?"

"What? Finn is adorable. I can't kill him," I respond. "Kane-"

Win frowns at me. "You guys said that would be the last one."

"This'll be the last one," I promise. "Kane. Lorelei, Sharon, Juni."

"Kill… Juni," Kane answers after a moment. "Kiss Sharon, and marry Lorelei."

Winona's frown deepens even more. She tosses Comma into Kane's lap, upsetting both the boy and the cat. "Seriously?" she asks. "You'd go with Lorelei over Sharon?"

Kane sits up and holds Comma up by his underarms. "To marry? For sure. Sharon's a chill friend, but can you imagine how much she'd nag as a wife? Jesus. And c'mon, we've all seen Lorelei."

"Um, what is _that_ supposed to mean?" Winona questions.

"I think we all know what it means," Kane responds. He laughs, but Winona and I frown at him. "What? You guys gonna make me say it? Lorelei's hot."

"She really isn't…" Winona grumbles.

"Psh, sure," Kane, never being the one to lie, scoffs, "and Renata Santo isn't smoking hot either."

Winona and I both glare at him. "Seriously, Kane?" she hisses.

"What? It's true," Kane retorts as he continues to play with the increasingly irritated cat. "I'm not into either of them by the slightest, but that doesn't mean I can't recognize that they look good."

I tilt my head. "Who _are_ you into?"

"Um, I don't know," Kane responds, half-jokingly and half-sincere. "Myself? Self-love, guys. It's overlooked."

Winona, apparently giving up any attempts at getting us to study, snorts. "Narcissist."

"Hey, there's a fine line between narcissist and confident," he explains, tracing out a line with his fingers, "and that line is exactly where I stand."

Just then the door to the boys' dorm's bathroom swings open, and standing there is Walt, wearing only a towel. He's in the middle of drying his hair with a smaller towel when he notices us. Slowly, he moves the towel from his head to his torso, as if he were a girl trying to cover up his chest. "Um… Hey guys…" he begins painfully. "Ah, Kane, I thought you said that you'd be heading out by the time I was done with my shower."

"Whoops," Kane says, feigning innocence surprisingly well. "That's my bad."

All four of us sit in the silence that follows.

"So… Walt," I say, turning to Walt, unsure where I should look. "Um. Kiss, marry, kill-"

"I'm going to go to the library," Winona suddenly interjects. She hops to her feet and awkwardly inches towards the door, keeping her eyes down the whole way. "You guys… I can just- I'm just going to go study," she babbles, uncharacteristically flustered, as she heads out of the room.

Once she hastily slams the door shut behind her, Walt turns to Kane, his eyes dark. "You bastard…" he mutters.

"C'mon, Walter. It's not my fault that I didn't calculate the times right," Kane responds, grinning. "This school literally doesn't teach math. Besides, you usually take longer in there, doin' your hair and all that shit- OW!" Walt had grabbed the nearest thing to him – in this case, a book – and lobbed it at Kane, hitting him squarely in the jaw. "Uncalled for…" Kane mutters, rubbing his chin.

"No, that was totally called for," I reply, tossing the book back to Walt. "You're being a jackass."

Kane throws up finger guns at me. "That's my brand!"

"In any case," Walt says, pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to recollect himself. "Velma, could you kindly please either look away or leave, so I can get dressed?"

"Yeah, no problem," I answer, scrambling onto my feet.

"Do I have to leave or look away, Walt?" Kane calls out.

"Kane, we're leaving."

"Give me a spin, Wally," he coos.

"Velma, can you please…?" Walt asks me, exasperated.

"Yeah, I got it," I say as I drag Kane out of the room by the collar of his shirt.

"C'mon, Stay," Kane shout, "lemme see that butt!"

I fling Kane out of the dorm as I kick the door shut with my foot. Kane stumbles out, but then brushes himself off and grins at me. "Okay, so what are we doing for the rest of the night? Should we find Win and actually try and study for potions?" he asks. I gesture at him wildly, but he only stares at me like I've gone crazy. "What?"

"First of all," I begin emphatically, "you do realize that Winona isn't going to talk to you for, like, a week, right? You know how mad she's going to be?"

"I mean-"

"Second of all!" I interrupt, jabbing him in his shoulder. "You really crossed the line from loveable asshole into literal pervert today. You realize that right?"

"Would you stop screaming for a second and let me explain?" he insists, grabbing my shoulders. I brush him off of me but then signal for him to keep talking. "Alright, I know that seemed creepy on my part, but it was _mainly_ payback."

"For what?"

Kane scrunches his face up at me. "Mmm. I don't wanna say," he mumbles, trying to sound cute. I roll my eyes at him and begin to walk away, but he catches me by my arm and pulls me back over to him. "Wait, wait, wait. Just don't tell anyone," he whispers. I stare at him for a beat, giving him my best 'I am not amused and regret ever becoming your friend' look before signaling to keep talking again. "Last week, _I_ may have been the one to have gotten out of the shower while Walt had company in the dorm," he squeaks out. "And… Walt's said company may have been Lorelei." He clenches his teeth and makes an expression that I can only describe as 'yikes.' "And I may have had less towel area than Walt did this time."

"Oh," I respond, not knowing any other way to respond. "Ew."

"I know," he says, covering his face with his hand.

My pity for him suddenly fades away and is quickly replaced with shock at his stupidity. "So you're solution to all of this was to make sure that Walt got out of the shower in front of Winona?" I demand incredulously. He nods at me solemnly, as if he sees nothing wrong with his course of action. I shake my head at him. "You're an idiot."

"Also…" he continues, "I may have been trying to put Win and Walt in a… compromising position?"

I blink a few times, unsure if I heard him right. "You what?"

He lets out a big sigh and explains. "I'm trying to get them all hot for each other again, so Walt will break up with Lorelei."

"That… is a terrible plan, Kane," I say, genuinely surprised at his lack of common sense. Really, it truly amazes me sometimes.

"I know!" he grumbles, falling back into the couch.

"Why didn't you ask me for help?" I ask as I take a seat next to him.

"I was going to, but you're barely around during breaks these days," he says. "Where are you hiding out anyway? No one knows where you go."

"I'm around," I answer far too quickly. "Just… I change it up. Library. Quad. Lake. Various classrooms."

"In any case, I never got around to scheming with you," Kane continues, thankfully not picking up on my guilt. "Vel, I want him to break up with Lorelei _so bad_. Even if he and Winona don't get together, I'm just sick of Lorelei. We never get to hang out with Walt anymore."

Kane is right about one thing. Walt and Lorelei are terrible together. These past few weeks, it has gotten considerably worse. She's always kept Walt on a 'short leash' but I feel like he's never apart from her these days.

And I know that wanting Walt and Winona to get together may seem dumb now with them constantly at each other's throats, but I can't forget the way they were before. I remember one time early this school year when I had walked in on Winona and Walt sitting on the couch with each other. Walt was leaning back with his arm around Winona, who slouched into his chest.

"-you're definitely cheating," I heard Winona say as she lightly smacked his chest.

I walked closer to them and saw that Walt had a deck of cards fanned out in his hands. "No, I swear that I'm not," Walt had laughed.

"You're using magic," she insisted.

"I'm not!"

I watched as he leaned in close to Winona to whisper something in her ear. She laughed and tried to snatch the cards away from him. I, being the best friend that I am and recognizing that I should not ruin their cute moment, spun around and tried to head back into the dorm. But before I could make it out, Winona called out to me, "Velma, come here. Look at what he's doing and tell me that he's not using any magic to pull this off."

Walt smiled. "I'm really not!" I tilted my head at Walt, wondering if Leigh had taught him the card trick. Leigh used to do it to impress muggle girls back at home, jokingly telling them that 'he was magic,' but I never figure out if he had actually taught himself a card trick or if he just charmed his deck of cards.

"Do it again," Winona said as she settled herself back into the crook of Walt's arm. "Velma, you watch him too." Walt and I shared a grin before he started shuffling the deck again.

I turn back my attention back to Kane when he tugs at the end of my braid as if he's literally a child. "You'll help me, right?" he pleads. "We'll scheme together?"

"Fine," I huff after giving him a dirty look. " _If_ you apologize to Winona and you don't tell her what we're doing."

"Done and done."


	21. HI THERE

Hi!

I know I do this like every other month, but this is just a reminder that this story isn't dead and I'm not dead either. I know some people freak out when stories don't get updated, and I just wanted to make sure you guys know that it's still going. It's going very slowly. But it is definitely going. Thanks y'all. Also, someone please pm me because I'm lonely. Also, if any of you have any irl dating advice I'd appreciate the heck out of that. I'll stop typing up this now and go back to writing about Velma and Co..

-wbi


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